


soft as velvet and sweet like honey

by seven_of_cups



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Consent Issues, Explicit Consent, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Porn With Plot, Tags May Change, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cordelia is loving and supportive, discussion of trauma, exploring boundaries, nothing graphic, they really are obsessed with each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 49,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27946538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seven_of_cups/pseuds/seven_of_cups
Summary: She wanted to ask Cordelia why her out of everyone in the world, but there probably wasn’t any answer she’d be able to understand the way Cordelia understood it. Please read the tags/notes before you dive in.
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode
Comments: 58
Kudos: 129





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is definitely the most explicit thing I've ever posted so please bear with me. Just to add onto the warnings in the tags, this is a story about exploring trauma/questionable consent in Misty's past through the lens of her and Cordelia's (new!) relationship. I don't discuss anything explicit, but it is heavily referenced and talked around at various points.
> 
> This is my first AHS story, and I've been writing and editing it for a while, so here we are! I hope you enjoy it and would love to hear your thoughts in the comments!

Cordelia had been attached to her at the hip all evening, her hands grazing over Misty’s arms and pulling at the sleeves of her dress with gentle fingers as Misty watered her plants. She pruned when necessary and breathed a little magic into her special favorites. With a frown, she ran her fingers over a wilting fern as she set her watering can down on the table. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Cordelia asked, reaching her arm over Misty’s shoulder to stroke one of the leaves, the other resting on her waist from behind.

“Might be time to repot. It’s growin’ too quickly, chokin’ itself,” she muttered, her fingers trailing down the stem to the dirt of the pot. She closed her eyes. With a steady breath, her powers welled in her chest like a warm ray of sunshine, tingling at her skin and flowing down her arm into the plant. Cordelia’s hand tightened on her waist, and she dipped her face into the crook of Misty’s neck, sighing contentedly. 

“ _Misty_ ,” she breathed, her lips ghosting against her freckled skin. 

“You feel that?” she asked, surprised as she turned her head, cheek pressing against Cordelia’s forehead. She hummed. 

“Sweetheart, you radiate it,” she chuckled, raising her head to look Misty in the eye, her arm sliding around Misty’s front, fingers splayed against her stomach. 

“‘M sorry,” Misty blushed as Cordelia’s other arm came down to settle around her middle. “Thought I was better at directin’ it.” Cordelia swayed them gently, pressing a kiss to the skin behind Misty’s ear. 

“You are. You really are. Misty, you’re miraculous. I mean that,” she smiled and pulled Misty closer when she tried to squirm away. 

“I’m just a swamp witch from the backwoods uh Louisiana,” she shook her head, bowing it slightly. Cordelia sighed, turning her around and interlocking her fingers at the small of Misty’s back to keep her close. 

“Look at me,” she said, her voice low and firm. Misty’s eyes flickered to hers, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Your powers are more unique, more potent than anyone I’ve ever met. Most people just... _wield_ magic. You _are_ magic.” 

“You don’t haveta…” Misty sighed, and Cordelia quickly raised a hand to cup Misty’s cheek, stroking it tenderly with her thumb. Then she dipped a finger under her chin and pulled her eyes up to meet Cordelia’s. 

“No matter how hard you try, it will always bleed from you like honey,” Cordelia whispered, searching Misty’s eyes for understanding. “You are a force of nature, Misty. And you need to stop short changing yourself. You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing,” she smiled, her eyes sparkling. Misty’s lips flickered up, having a hard time looking directly at Cordelia. 

“You’re makin’ me blush,” she laughed nervously, and Cordelia grinned, trying to catch Misty’s eyes. 

“Your smile makes me blush,” she breathed, and Misty thought her heart might have stopped right there in her chest. Cordelia’s thumb swirled around Misty’s chin slowly, waiting for her to look up. 

“Delia,” Misty sighed as Cordelia’s thumb swiped across her bottom lip. Flushed, Misty leaned in to press her lips to Cordelia’s. Her breath came out choppy against Cordelia’s cheek as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders, a hand cupping the back of her neck, fingers tangling in the soft hair there. Misty felt like she was burning up inside, and she swiped her tongue along Cordelia’s bottom lip. Cordelia moaned into Misty’s mouth, and it sent a shiver down her spine. 

She pressed her up against the table, her hands tight on Misty’s hips, her dress bunched in her fists. Dipping her head, she kissed her way down Misty’s neck in a burning trail. She sucked on soft skin, and Misty gasped, something pulled taut inside her. She fisted Cordelia’s hair, her other hand digging into her shoulder blade to hold her there. 

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was still new, neither of them quite sure where they stood. There was a conversation they needed to have, a hesitation, that had so far gone unspoken, hovering in the air like a morning fog. But kissing Cordelia was like diving into a cold pond under a full moon. It was always a shock right up until the feeling seeped into her veins and she could collapse into it, let it consume her. Cordelia was like that, all consuming. Her eyes were piercing and honest, and her affections were gentle and burning and focused. 

She led the coven that way, taught her students with the same passion. And from the day they’d met, Cordelia had had the same quiet and lovely devotion to Misty as well. It never failed to surprise her just how much Cordelia cared. And Misty, who’d carved out her small, unassuming corner of the coven, had found herself sinking into the affection just as much as she shied away from it. It was new and strange to be looked at the way Cordelia looked at her. It was normal, by all accounts, for Cordelia to devote time, energy, and emotional investment into her students, but there was always something more with Misty, a twinge that she felt in her stomach. 

Lately they’d been spending countless evenings curled into each other on the couch, sharing popcorn and a movie or a book or just silence. It was easy to be quiet around Cordelia. And it was easy to talk. The first time they kissed, it had been late one chilly evening after the other students had gone to bed. Misty had been excitedly reading Cordelia a passage from her book on poisonous plants, rambling on about a new spell to experiment with, a blanket tangled between them. When she stopped and looked up, she was surprised to find a faraway look in Cordelia’s eyes, her head propped up in her palm, elbow against the back of the couch. 

“Miss Cordelia, are y’alright?” Misty asked, trailing off as Cordelia, with softly hooded eyes, leaned forward and grabbed Misty’s jaw with delicate fingers. When their lips met, Misty’s heart stopped dead in her chest. Cordelia was soft against her, and her perfume was intoxicating. Like moss on wet stone, it smelled like home.

And now Cordelia’s hands were pressing into the small of Misty’s back, keeping them flush against each other, Cordelia’s hips crushed against her own. Misty gasped, their lips parting as Cordelia’s hands slid up her waist to rest on her ribcage, thumbs grazing the side of her chest. 

“Misty,” she breathed, and it bordered on a whine, her chest heaving. Misty couldn’t seem to think straight at the moment, and she blinked at Cordelia whose eyes were dark and lovely. 

“You’re so pretty,” Misty breathed, raising a hand to trail across Cordelia’s cheek. She leaned into the touch, placing her hand on top of Misty’s and holding it there. Cordelia bit down on her lip, holding back a smile as she looked Misty over. Feeling exposed under her piercing gaze, Misty squirmed, her chest tightening. 

“Come with me,” Cordelia breathed, holding the hand Misty had had on her cheek and pulling her through the greenhouse. 

“Where we goin’?” They were the same height in Cordelia’s heels, and Misty resisted the urge to twirl the bouncing hair in front of her around her finger as they walked. Cordelia didn’t answer, but Misty knew. She was taking her to the room behind the greenhouse. Misty’s bedroom. She could smell Cordelia’s shampoo, and it calmed her nerves a little. Though her palms were starting to sweat. They hadn’t done this part before. 

Misty’s ears rang when Cordelia closed the door and came up behind her, brushed her hair off her neck to press her lips there. Misty sighed, tilting her head to the side as Cordelia nipped and sucked and then soothed with a soft kiss. Her hand came around Misty’s waist to press against her stomach, and then she dragged her tongue up Misty’s jaw. She sighed with a shiver, her mouth falling open as Cordelia circled her, connecting in an open mouthed kiss. Misty’s head swam as Cordelia’s kisses became more urgent, their lips sliding. Her hand wandered up to Misty’s chest, the other splayed across the curve of her spine. Gentle at first, and Misty faltered. Cordelia pressed in, and she hardened under her as a smile spread across Cordelia’s open mouth.

She directed them back until Misty’s legs hit her bed. She let Cordelia lay her down, and before Misty knew what was happening, Cordelia had slipped off her heels and pulled up her dress to straddle Misty’s hips. The way her legs surrounded Misty, the way her dress pulled taut and dug into soft thighs had her hot and flustered, not knowing what to do with her hands. 

“Cordelia,” Misty breathed as she bit down on her ear lobe, curling into her. She shivered, her hands coming to hold the backs of Cordelia’s thighs. “Oh, Delia,” Misty sighed as heat spread through her. 

This wasn’t the first time someone had settled down on top of her. Long before she came into her powers, before her life turned on its head, there had been boys. Her mother had pressed them on her, and like fly paper she could never shake them. They kissed her and touched her, and their hands were big and rough like blocks of wood. The kissing was the easy part. There was a rhythm to it, a sweet togetherness that Misty enjoyed. But she enjoyed it differently with Cordelia. There was a more visceral push and pull, more softness, more calm and yet more urgency. It made Misty’s heart flutter to kiss Cordelia. The boys took. Cordelia gave. The boys would yank down her panties and thrust inside her and Misty would cry out. Sometimes they asked if she was okay, and she would say yes. They thought she liked it, so she decided that she did. She told herself she liked a lot of things before her life changed. 

Cordelia was pulling at the neckline of Misty’s dress, exposing the blotchy skin of her chest. She noticed her grinding down, just slightly, on top of her. Misty’s hand wandered up to push against Cordelia’s neck, and Cordelia pulled back, breathing heavily, as Misty dragged her fingers down between Cordelia’s breasts, following the scoop of her dress. It was work casual, but Cordelia looked stunning, she always did. Gently, she took Misty’s hand and moved it to the left, holding there. Misty’s eyes shot to Cordelia’s. She just nodded, lips parted, eyes dark. Misty pressed the heel of her hand into Cordelia’s chest, exploratory, and Cordelia rolled against her, her hair falling into her face. 

“You’re beautiful,” Misty breathed, her other hand coming up to hold Cordelia’s hair back. “Jesus Christ,” she nearly laughed, and Cordelia’s eyes sparkled. She came down to capture Misty’s lips, and Misty arched up into her, squeezing. Cordelia groaned against her, sucking Misty’s lower lip into her mouth. Feeling hot and restless and more than a little lost, Misty fumbled with the bottom of Cordelia’s dress. She pulled it up over her hips and rested her hands there. She was so impossibly soft. Misty could sit for hours tracing patterns on Cordelia’s skin, connecting freckles like they were the passcode to the universe. 

“Misty,” Cordelia breathed, and she snapped out of her daze to find Cordelia kissing her cheek. “Misty, unzip me,” she said breathlessly. Misty felt slow, like she was moving through molasses, but she did as she was told, her hand tracing skin as soon as it was exposed. Quickly, Cordelia pulled the dress over her head and tossed it to the side, sitting up on top of Misty. Her chest heaved, and the black bra she wore moved with it. Absolutely enamoured, Misty trailed her hands all down Cordelia’s front, the delicate skin of her stomach twitching under Misty’s touch. Her hands settled at the top of Cordelia’s thighs, her thumbs grazing her matching underwear. It was simple and wonderful, and Misty thought she was absolutely radiant, mouth hanging open at the sight of her. “Touch me,” Cordelia said, her words soft but far from timid. Immediately, a flush rose to Misty’s cheeks, spreading down her chest. Cordelia’s eyes were dark and loving. She was aroused in a way that had Misty fascinated. When she didn’t move, Cordelia paused. “Sweetheart?”

With the weight of Cordelia on top of her, Misty couldn’t think straight. She closed her mouth. “You’re just breathtakin’,” she answered, and it was probably the most honest thing she’d ever said. Cordelia stole her breath away every moment of every day and especially now, like this. Cordelia smiled, pressing her palm low onto Misty’s belly. Her breathing hitched, the pressure spreading heat through her body. Cordelia’s smile turned to a smirk, and Misty suddenly felt exposed even though she hadn’t taken any of her clothes off. Cordelia’s hands trailed up Misty’s body, and it felt so good, but there was an itch in the back of her head she couldn’t scratch, memories she couldn’t shake. This wasn’t the first time she’d done this. Cordelia kneaded Misty’s chest, pressing against nipples that pebbled under her touch. She wasn’t the first person to elicit that response. But Misty was breathing heavily, and Cordelia’s eyes were dark and her hands decisive. With a few tugs and maneuvering, Cordelia pulled Misty’s dress up over her waist. 

Grounded by the gentle caress of Cordelia’s hand on her cheek, Misty sat up like Cordelia wanted, raised her arms like Cordelia needed, and the dress slid past her ears. Her hair fell in her face, and Cordelia brushed it away, holding her cheeks and kissing her. Back to kissing. Misty liked that. She liked the way Cordelia’s body felt against hers, the heat of their skin burning together. So she held her close, one hand on her mid back and the other dipping lower, her fingers edging under the back of Cordelia’s underwear. A choked little noise escaped Cordelia’s throat, and she ground her hips into Misty’s stomach, desperate for friction. They kissed, sloppy and quick, and Misty tried to catch her breath. 

Without warning, Cordelia pulled back and pressed Misty into the bed, her palm digging into her breastbone. Cordelia slid off her and parted Misty’s legs with light caresses of her fingers so she could settle between them. Her thighs rose to cradle Cordelia’s hips as she came down for another kiss. The pressure made her throb, so she rolled her hips up into Cordelia who grinned and bit her lip, their noses touching. 

“Fuck, Misty,” she breathed with a little laugh. Misty swallowed. This was what happened. Her body did things like that, and then the boy above her would think Misty wanted him more than anything else in the world. Her breathing hitched, and her ears were burning. She swallowed again. 

Cordelia trailed her hand down Misty’s stomach between them, and Misty twitched under her, biting the inside of her cheek. She was breathing erratically, heart pounding against her chest. Cordelia’s palm pressed down over her underwear, sliding up. 

“Oh, honey,” Cordelia sighed, and Misty knew she was wet. Her brow furrowed tightly, body tense. “Misty?” her voice went up a few notes, and Misty realized her eyes were closed. “Sweetheart, your chest is all blotchy.” Misty swallowed and looked up to find Cordelia frowning. 

“Is it?” her voice was hoarse, and Cordelia sat back on her heels, her hands coming to rest on Misty’s knees. 

“Are you okay?” 

“‘M fine,” she said with a note of defensiveness. Cordelia picked up on it. 

“Are you actually?” she asked delicately. Misty swallowed and found her throat tight all of a sudden. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded. Cordelia’s concerned look blurred when reluctant tears gathered in Misty’s eyes. She bit her lip hard, blinking and looking away. “Misty,” Cordelia breathed, alarmed as she crawled around to lay next to her, propping herself up with her elbow, the other hand reaching over to wipe away the tears on Misty’s cheeks. Misty closed her legs and turned into Cordelia’s body. “Come here,” she whispered, wrapping Misty in her arms. Incredibly embarrassed and overwhelmed, Misty couldn’t stop the silent tears that dripped onto Cordelia’s shoulder. Cordelia held her tightly, and they stayed like that as she waited patiently for Misty’s breathing to even out. She whispered lovely nothings into Misty’s hair and ran soothing fingers through her tangled locks, nails dragging over her scalp.

“I’m so sorry,” Misty muttered as she sniffed, shaking her head. 

“Please don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for,” Cordelia said, pulling back to wipe away her tears and kiss her forehead. “I should have slowed down and asked. We should have talked. I just assumed...well, I wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re not upset?” 

“Of course not. Why would I be upset?” Cordelia asked, genuinely confused as she looked into Misty’s hesitant eyes. Slowly, something clicked in Cordelia’s brain. “Misty, have you ever been…has someone...” Misty shook her head aggressively.

“No, I don’t...well, I don’t think so. I’m not really sure,” she admitted, her gaze flickering to the freckles on Cordelia’s chest. They were damp with her own tears. A fresh wave of humiliation welled up inside her, and she pulled away from Cordelia, sitting up and bringing her knees to her chest. “It was a long time ago. Before...the swamp. See, I don’t do this very often. An’ I was happy. Being alone and all. I didn’t have to deal with anyone thinkin’ they knew what’s best for me,” she rambled, cutting herself off when Cordelia slowly sat up, crossing her legs as the bed dipped. Cordelia’s warm hand settled on her shoulder, trailing down her arm until she linked their pinkies together. She forced a smile, resting her chin on her knees as Cordelia’s hand trailed down Misty’s calf to rest back in her own lap. “I’m sure you don’t wanna hear me ramble on,” she laughed painfully, looking back to see Cordelia’s eyes swimming, a frown settled into her features. 

“I could listen to you ramble for days,” she breathed, her hand twitching like she wanted to reach up and touch Misty again. Misty swallowed, turning her head down to stare at her toes, dirt caked into her skin from the greenhouse. 

“I feel like something’s wrong with me,” she admitted, her voice cracking. 

“Why in the world would you think that?” Cordelia asked, her own voice strained. 

“I like when you kiss me. I like it an awful lot. An’ I like touching you. You’re warm and soft, and you smell so nice. But sometimes I start thinkin’ about...before. I can’t help it. It just pops into my head, an’ I can’t get it out. Like I’m _here_. With you. But I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m prolly not making much sense.” 

“You’re making perfect sense,” Cordelia assured, scooting closer and leaning forward. “And there is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Misty. Nothing.”

“I just thought that was my only option, you know? I thought I could make myself enjoy it ‘cause I knew he did. It made him happy. I just feel so...god...why would I do that to myself?” she asked, squeezing her eyes shut, wrapping her arms tighter around her knees. 

“Sometimes we don’t know what we like because we never knew it was possible. You didn’t have the space to explore what made you happy. You shouldn’t punish yourself for that,” Cordelia said in a voice barely above a whisper, leaning close to Misty’s shoulder. “But I know that doesn’t actually change what happened. It’s okay to feel whatever it is you’re feeling. It’s _okay_.” 

“Delia, I’m sorry,” Misty croaked, her throat tightening again.

“Oh, Misty, please, please don’t be sorry. I’m so sorry you felt pressured to make me happy. I care about you so much, and the very last thing I want is for you to feel anything but safe and loved,” Cordelia choked, and Misty turned to wrap her arms around Cordelia who immediately reciprocated. She held her tight, a hand in her hair to keep her close, tucking Misty into her chest and cradling her. She pressed a loving kiss to her head and sighed. “I want you to know that if you’d ever like to talk about it, I will always be there to listen. Whatever you need, I want to help. And I need you to tell me if anything is ever too much. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. _Ever_. I mean that,” she mumbled into her hair. 

Misty grabbed onto Cordelia as tightly as she could, fingers digging into the warm skin of her back. She smelled like honeysuckle and french perfume and something uniquely her, and Misty smiled into her bare shoulder. When she first started kissing Cordelia, she hadn’t thought that it was possible for something like that to feel so good it ached. And up until that moment, she hadn’t thought she could feel this comfortable in someone else’s arms. She’d been on her own for so long she’d gotten used to missing a warm embrace. Misty pushed herself forward until Cordelia fell back against the bed, hair fanning out around her. She laughed, and Misty laughed with her as she curled herself into Cordelia, an arm draped over her middle and her leg resting over Cordelia’s hips. Cordelia dragged her hand up Misty’s arm and over her shoulder, brushing her curly hair behind her ear and swirling her thumb tenderly over Misty’s flushed cheek.

“Can you really feel my magic?” Misty asked softly. 

“Always. But especially now.” 

“I’m not using it now,” Misty frowned, looking up at Cordelia who had her eyes closed. 

“Your magic is special, Misty. I knew it when I first met you, but I realized I’m only barely starting to understand how. The more comfortable you get in your own skin, the more it’s going to blossom, I promise you,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering open to meet Misty’s gaze. She looked at Misty like she’d hung the stars, soft and drowning in affection. 

“I like when you look at me like that,” she muttered, and Cordelia smiled, chuckling as she grabbed Misty’s jaw. 

“I’ve noticed it makes you blush,” she breathed, biting down on her lip. Misty’s ears grew hot, but she held her gaze, eyes sparkling. She wanted to ask Cordelia why _her_ out of everyone in the world, but there probably wasn’t any answer she’d be able to understand the way Cordelia understood it. 

“Can I take you out?” she asked, the words pouring from her more urgently than she’d intended. 

“You mean on a date?” Cordelia asked back, tilting her head. 

“It feels strange to be sayin’ out loud. I’m not sure if it’s too early or too late for it. To be honest, I don’t really know...what we’re doin’,” Misty admitted, gaze flickering away from Cordelia’s in embarrassment. 

“I don’t think it’s either,” Cordelia grinned, and Misty could hear it in her voice. “Too early or too late. I mean, sometimes I feel like I’m just fumbling around in the dark with you,” she muttered, brushing back Misty’s hair with such warmth it made her chest tighten.

“How do you mean?” 

Cordelia shifted so she was on her side, her right leg coming to rest between Misty’s whose own leg draped over the top of Cordelia’s hips. She slid her arm around Misty’s waist, tracing little patterns in her back. “I care about you so much it scares me,” she laughed. “It sounds silly, but I’m always worried that you’re slipping away. As if I ever really had you. I don’t know. And then sometimes we’re laying together, like this, and I’m calm. I just feel...steady. Like nothing can touch me but you,” she whispered, their foreheads coming together. Misty felt like a live wire, her skin burning, and she smiled. “So I don’t think this can be _too_ anything. To be honest, I’m not convinced that any kind of _normal_ applies. That being said, I would love nothing more than to let you take me on a date,” she smiled, and Misty grinned, leaning forward to kiss her, soft and sweet. 

Their lips broke, but Misty chased her down, connecting them again. She kissed her fully, deeply, and Cordelia hummed. And then Misty kissed her again, coaxing Cordelia’s lips apart, slowly, delicately. She was in control, her bottom lip catching under Cordelia’s top, her hand coming to cup Cordelia’s cheek. She sighed into Misty’s mouth, her eyes closed so easily as her fingers splayed across Misty’s back. Misty sucked Cordelia’s bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling lightly, and she felt Cordelia relax against her. Then she slid to kiss Cordelia's cheek who smiled lazily until her lips trailed over her jaw and down her neck. Then she gasped as Misty sucked abruptly on the soft skin there, no doubt leaving a mark. 

“Misty,” Cordelia breathed, almost a warning, and she stopped to look up at her. 

“I just want to see,” she decided, kissing her jaw. “How far.” Cordelia hesitated, searching Misty’s eyes for any sign of unease. 

“Promise you’ll say something as soon as it doesn’t feel right.” 

“I promise,” Misty said, and though she was nervous, she did mean it. 

“I’m serious, Misty. The very second. If you’re not enthusiastic about it or if the thought even crosses your mind that you’d rather be back in the greenhouse, I want you to tell me. I won’t be upset.” 

“You look worried.” 

“I worry. It’s what I do,” Cordelia pouted, and Misty kissed her soundly. 

“I want to try again. For me. Not for you,” she said with a shake of her head, and Cordelia swallowed and nodded, knowing what she meant. Misty smiled and kissed her again, slower, more passionately. As Cordelia’s tongue dipped between Misty’s parted lips, she shifted closer, her leg pressing up between Misty’s. 

She broke the kiss and rolled Cordelia onto her back, one of her knees resting between Cordelia’s legs as she leaned down to kiss her again. Misty noticed Cordelia going slower, relinquishing control and letting Misty set the pace. She appreciated it, but she didn’t want Cordelia to just _lay_ there. So she trailed sloppy kisses over Cordelia’s jaw and down her neck. Her chest heaved as she tilted her head, letting Misty suck hard on her skin. She gasped sharply when Misty leaned forward and bit the skin under her ear, a hand flying up to tangle in Misty’s hair. 

“Oh, god,” she sighed, her breath hitching when Misty took Cordelia’s earlobe between her lips. Misty smiled, kissing her there and then down to her collarbone where she wrapped an arm under Cordelia’s back and pulled her to sit up. She hummed, cupping Misty’s cheeks and kissing her hard as Misty’s arms circled her back to fumble with her bra. “Are you sure?” Cordelia breathed, breaking the kiss, their foreheads pressed together. Misty took a moment to think and was pleasantly surprised to find that the only thing on her mind was Cordelia’s damn bra. 

“Positive,” she answered, and Cordelia smiled, kissing her again, first on the lips and then her cheek and then her jaw. Misty shivered and stopped pulling at the clasp. 

“Do you need help?” Cordelia asked sweetly into Misty’s skin. 

“I’ve never taken off a lady’s bra before,” she muttered as Cordelia pulled away and curled her arms behind her back. 

“It’s harder when it’s not your own,” she conceded as it came off in her hands. She let it fall then tossed it off the bed. Misty’s chest tightened, and when Cordelia turned back to Misty she was amused to see her looking like a deer caught in headlights. “Misty?” Cordelia asked gently, and Misty closed her mouth. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she answered, and Cordelia gasped out a smile but waited patiently for Misty to make the first move. Delicately, her hands trailed up Cordelia’s stomach and rested on her chest. Her thumbs swiped over dusty nipples, and she watched them pebble at her touch. Cordelia’s breathing quickened just a little, but as she pinched them, Cordelia stilled, arching into her. Misty bit her lip and watched Cordelia’s eyes flutter up to hers. “Lay back,” she breathed, and Cordelia did as she was told. Misty shifted so she laid between Cordelia’s legs, leaning forward to connect their lips. Cordelia held Misty’s face with soft fingers, smiling into her mouth. Then Misty inched down to kiss her chest and then over the impossibly soft skin of her breast. She kissed Cordelia’s nipple then took it into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the hardening bud. She glanced up to watch Cordelia’s eyes fluttering closed. And then she sucked, and the softest little whine escaped Cordelia’s throat, melting into a heavy sigh as Misty kissed her way to the other side. As she took a second nipple into her mouth, Cordelia’s hand drifted up to tangle in Misty’s hair, her hips canting up. Her skin was flushed, and she was biting her lip as Misty rolled the first nipple between her fingers, slick with her spit. 

“ _Oh_ , Misty,” she gasped, lilting up into a moan at the end. Heat spread through Misty’s body like before, and Cordelia pulled Misty up to kiss her again. In a haze, she grasped at Misty’s back, her other hand sliding to Misty’s chest and squeezing. Misty sighed, but her eyes were squeezed shut. She pushed back memories starting to well to the surface and swallowed.

“No,” she said, breaking the kiss, and Cordelia stopped immediately, her eyes flying open as her hand dropped to Misty’s forearm. She was searching Misty’s eyes earnestly, looking for instruction. “I don’t want you to touch me like that,” she said finally, the words difficult to articulate and embarrassing to say. 

“Okay,” Cordelia nodded, a little breathless. Misty met her eyes apologetically, but Cordelia just frowned, kissing the expression right off her face. “None of that. It’s okay. You don’t want me to, so I won’t.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled tentatively, and Cordelia gave her an even warmer one back. 

“You’re in control,” Cordelia assured her, and Misty took a breath, nodding along. 

“I’m in control,” she echoed, her eyes meeting Cordelia’s. They darkened under Misty’s gaze, and she realized Cordelia liked the idea more than Misty had anticipated. Deriving pleasure from being submissive was a concept that was foreign both to Misty and the people she’d had on top of her. She bit her lip and grinned, filled with curious wonder, “You like that.” 

Cordelia slid her arms above her head, crossing her wrists and resting them on the pillow. “I like it when you’re confident,” she breathed, biting her own lip. Misty’s heart fluttered, and in a swift movement she captured Cordelia’s lips inbetween her own. Cordelia groaned, her arms coming down over Misty’s shoulders as Misty dragged her nails down Cordelia’s sides. She left pink trails all the way over her hips and down the sides of her soft thighs, making Cordelia’s hips cant up. Misty pressed a kiss to the valley between her breasts and rested her chin there for a moment. 

“Can I take this off?” Misty asked as she dipped her thumbs under the band of Cordelia’s underwear. Cordelia’s eyes fluttered down to hers. 

“Are you still okay? Is that what you want?” she asked, worried again, and Misty kissed the space between her breasts. 

“I want to touch you,” she breathed into Cordelia’s skin, and it was the wholehearted truth. Something between a whine and a groan escaped Cordelia’s lips as she pulled Misty up for a sloppy kiss. When Misty pulled away, she pressed their foreheads together. “Can I?” Cordelia swallowed and nodded. 

“Yes,” she breathed, and Misty pulled Cordelia’s underwear down over her thighs and her knees until they were laying on the floor somewhere. “Misty,” Cordelia gasped, needy. Misty shifted so she was laying next to Cordelia, though it was more like half on top of her, and Cordelia had curled into her, her legs resting against Misty’s. Slowly, Misty trailed her hand down between Cordelia’s breasts and over her stomach. Goosebumps puckered her skin the lower Misty went, and she delighted to see her squirm under her touch. Gently, she slid her hand up from Cordelia’s inner thigh to her knee, parting her legs to reveal dark, trimmed hair. Nervous and excited, Misty bit her lip. 

“You can stop any time, I promise…” Cordelia sighed, trailing off as Misty dipped her fingers between slick folds. “Oh,” she moaned, low and gasping. 

“Jesus, fuck, Delia. You’re wet,” she breathed as her fingers clicked against velvety skin, dipping lower and then pulling up as she found her clit. Misty knew how to touch herself, but touching someone else was entirely new and slightly intimidating territory. But Cordelia was so soft and warm and the way her eyes fluttered at Misty’s touch was incredibly, wonderfully hot.

“Oh, god,” Cordelia groaned, curling tighter into Misty, pulling her down for a bruising, wet kiss. Experimentally, Misty circled two fingers around her clit, and Cordelia moaned. “That’s embarrassing,” she laughed, holding Misty close as their eyes met. 

“What is?” 

“I’m very fucking wet,” she gasped out a laugh until it turned into a high pitched, choked moan as Misty continued to circle her clit, building up pressure and speed. “Oh, fuck, Misty,” she moaned, drawing out her name like it was a caramel she was savoring on her tongue. Misty’s heart was pounding out of her chest but in a good way, in a _she couldn’t drink in the sight of Cordelia fast enough or completely enough_ kind of way. Cordelia kissed her hard, digging her nails into Misty’s back. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Misty sighed into her lips, kissing her again and leaning down to suck soft skin between her teeth. Cordelia cried out, bucking her hips up. Misty hushed her with soothing whispers into her neck and sweet kisses. 

“You’re gonna leave marks,” Cordelia gasped out. 

“Ya want me to stop?” Misty asked, her fingers slowing, worried. Cordelia groaned and placed her hand over Misty’s, willing her to go faster. 

“No. God, no,” she gasped, and Misty raised her brow. She watched as Cordelia’s hooded eyes glanced down between her legs at Misty’s long fingers shining in the light. 

“No for which?” she asked delicately, pulling her hand up, but Cordelia caught it with a whine. 

“Both,” she ground out. “Please, _fuck_ , don’t stop.” The phrase caught Misty off guard, reminded of a time when the same request wasn’t as optional. Misty stilled completely, her chest heaving, and she closed her eyes, trying desperately to block it out. Not now. _Not now_. Cordelia’s breathing slowed, and her hips stopped twitching. “Misty?” she asked, and Misty’s hand slid up to rest underneath Cordelia’s belly button, leaving a trial of wetness over Cordelia’s skin. “Where are you right now, sweetheart?” she asked in a voice so low and sweet Misty thought she might break. Delicately, Cordelia’s hand came up to hold Misty’s jaw, and she opened her eyes to find Cordelia watching her closely. “There she is,” Cordelia smiled, tilting her head on the pillow, her cheeks flushed, sweat shining on her nose. Misty took a deep breath, the knot in her chest coming undone under Cordelia’s smile. 

“‘M sorry,” Misty breathed, and Cordelia shook her head. 

“I’m proud of you,” she offered, and that caught Misty off guard more than anything else they’d done that evening. “Do you want to stop?” Cordelia asked, closing her legs. Misty bit her lip, unsure of how to answer. Cordelia waited a minute, but when indecision bloomed in Misty’s eyes, Cordelia let her hand fall to Misty’s collarbone. “What part was too much?” That Misty could answer. 

“The begging,” she breathed, embarrassed. “I don’t...it’s just…” 

“I understand,” Cordelia nodded, sensing that Misty was struggling to articulate what she was feeling, that she had trouble setting boundaries. “I promise I won’t,” she shook her head, watching Misty with parted lips. 

“Yeah?” 

“Of course,” Cordelia smiled, biting her lip. A slow smile spread across Misty’s face as her anxiety eased. She’d never thought she’d feel comfortable enough with someone to tell them that. And she hadn’t anticipated it being that attractive. 

“Can I kiss you?” she asked, her voice hoarse, and Cordelia grinned. 

“Yes.” 

Misty leaned down happily, kissing her soundly as she rolled Cordelia’s nipple between her fingers. Cordelia hummed into her mouth, sucking on Misty’s bottom lip. Then she trailed her hand roughly over Cordelia’s stomach which tensed under her in anticipation before easing her legs back open. Between sloppy kisses, Misty slid her fingers back between wet folds over her clit, and Cordelia gasped, jerking. “Sensitive,” she groaned into Misty’s mouth. Misty eased up and slid her fingers down around her clit instead. “Christ,” Cordelia sighed, her head falling back against the pillow. Misty dipped her fingers lower, met with more wetness, and Cordelia’s hips raised to meet her. 

“Delia, can I…” Misty whispered, kissing her jaw. Cordelia’s breathing got shallow as she opened her eyes to see Misty’s hesitant expression. She bit her lip, her pupils blown wide. 

“Yes, but only if you want to,” she said, her voice coming out in a whine. Misty watched Cordelia closely as she slowly slid her middle finger inside her. Cordelia didn’t breathe for a moment, her eyes fluttering as they stayed focused on Misty, lips parted. Then Misty pulled back and pushed in, the heel of her hand against Cordelia’s clit. Cordelia’s head fell back against the pillow as Misty started up a slow rhythm, the rolling of her hips meeting Misty’s pace. Misty added another finger, and Cordelia groaned, her body tensing. Misty watched, absolutely fascinated. Penetration had never felt good for Misty, and she was excited to see the way Cordelia enjoyed it. “God, Misty,” she breathed, reaching up to pull Misty closer, to kiss her. “If you...can I just…” she trailed off against Misty’s mouth, not sure how to phrase it in a way Misty would be comfortable with.

“What is it, Delia?” she breathed against Cordelia who shivered at the sound of her name. She opened her eyes as Misty stilled inside her, licking her lips. 

“If you curl your fingers up. Like this,” she whispered, motioning with her hand, “it feels…Oh, fuck, oh, Misty…” Cordelia gasped urgently as Misty copied what she’d been shown. She latched onto her, quick, desperate moans escaping her lips as Misty sped up. Heat spread through Misty at the wet, sloppy noises between them, at Cordelia’s body tensing against her. “Oh, that feels good,” Cordelia gasped, her hips rolling. She was breathing heavily, her body pulled taut like a rubber band. Misty pulled back to kiss Cordelia’s cheek and watched as her mouth fell open, moans rolling from her throat like honey dripping down her chin at breakfast. “Oh, fuck, you’re…” she cut herself off with a loud moan, devolving into a low, heavy groan. “God, Misty...” And with a wordless gasp, Cordelia dug her nails into Misty’s back, curling into Misty’s shoulder and pressing her lips to the skin there. The loud, needy moans that rolled from Cordelia’s mouth into her skin had Misty flushed and breathing heavily as she helped Cordelia ride out her orgasm. When she finally stilled, Cordelia twitched under her, trying to catch her breath. She was impossibly tight around Misty’s fingers, so she pulled out as slow as she could, ignoring her aching wrist. Cordelia gasped anyway, whining into Misty’s skin. 

“Jesus, Cordelia, you’re somethin’ else,” Misty sighed, and Cordelia laughed breathlessly, wrapping herself tightly around Misty, the wetness between her legs rubbing off on Misty’s thigh. Lightly, she kissed Misty’s neck a few times, her legs shaking. And Misty held her, tracing patterns in her back and kissing her shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” Cordelia asked shakily, pulling back to look her in the eyes. 

“I’m okay,” Misty assured, and it was the truth. “That was...it was...really hot.” 

Cordelia smiled, biting her lip as she grabbed Misty’s hand from around her waist. Her fingers glistened in the light as Cordelia held her wrist and guided Misty’s fingers into her mouth, sucking herself off them. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Misty sighed, watching with wide eyes. Cordelia let her hand go with a soft kiss to her fingertips and then licked her lips. With a lurch, Misty surged forward and kissed Cordelia hard, wanting desperately to taste her too. “Fuck,” she groaned when she pulled back, the sweet, heady taste making her dizzy. Cordelia was breathing heavily along with her, and when their eyes met there was a question there that Misty was struggling to answer.

“Misty…” 

Cordelia wanted her, and Misty knew she was wet. She could feel it, and she was sure Cordelia could feel the heat pooling between her thighs too. She closed her eyes, imagining Cordelia above her, completely at her mercy. Her stomach flipped at that kind of vulnerability. Misty swallowed and opened her eyes. “Are you hungry?” 

Cordelia’s expression melted, and she leaned forward to kiss her. “Famished,” she grinned, and Misty grinned with her. 

“Come on, then, I’ll make you a grilled cheese.” 


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So the reason there was a month gap in between chapters is because I graduated college! But if you're reading this, thank you so much for sticking with me. I really appreciate all the kind and excited comments and hope you like this chapter as well!
> 
> WARNINGS!! more indirect discussion of sexual trauma, mild harassment, and heaps and heaps of anxiety.

Misty bit down on the tip of her thumb, her lip pressed to her knuckle as she dipped her head. She tried to occupy herself by staring intently at the top of her ratty boots and finding patterns in the discolorations, but she could barely even focus on that, glancing up again as she leaned against the wall. 

“You trying to set it on fire?” a voice asked from behind, and Misty jumped and turned to find Zoe smirking at her, a hair’s breadth away from her ear. 

“What? No, ‘course not, I can’t even...I don’t...do that.” Her defensive anger faded away when she realized Zoe was joking, eyebrows raised. Zoe shifted, folding her arms over her chest and forcing down a grin like she was harboring some kind of secret. Misty felt a childish bitterness tighten in her chest and frowned, turning back to stare pointedly at the dark wood of Cordelia’s office door. 

“Just go in,” she chuckled, nudging Misty’s back with her shoulder, all hard and pointy. Misty grimaced, biting harder on her thumb, her nails already bit down to the skin. 

“I don’t wanna bother her,” she muttered, curling in on herself. 

“All she does on Fridays is paperwork. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind an interruption,” Zoe offered easily, too casually, almost reassuring. 

“I know,” she grumbled, cheeks flushing. She did know. It was just that tonight was the night she was taking Cordelia out on a date, and she hadn’t been able to think about anything else all day, stumbling through her classes and letting her afternoon students go a full thirty minutes early so that she could wallow in her anxiety alone until the evening.

“Chicken,” Zoe whispered into her ear, and Misty scoffed but didn’t turn to face her, her lips twitching into a frown. _Coward_. Then Zoe brushed past her, and in a panic Misty reached out to grab her and pull her back, but Zoe used her weight to twirl Misty forward until they were both stumbling in front of Cordelia’s door. Zoe knocked before Misty could curse her out, and there was a soft “come in” before she could wrap her head around Zoe’s mischievous grin. 

For a girl as small as her, Zoe’s grip on her wrist was impossibly tight as she dragged her through the door. When Cordelia looked up, her eyes flitted between the two of them, lingering over Misty for a moment longer. Misty turned one of her rings around her finger, worrying at her lip. 

“What can I do for you ladies?” she asked as she set her pen down and intertwined her fingers on her desk. Zoe glanced back at Misty then to Cordelia who didn’t seem to miss Misty’s fiery glare. 

“Um, we were just wondering when you’d be done,” Zoe offered pleasantly. Cordelia’s brow quirked up. 

“Looks like you’re in luck. I’m just finishing now. Do you need something?”

“Just wanted to let you know that me and Queenie are seeing a movie later,” she smiled, bouncing on her heels. Cordelia nodded and told her to have fun, and then Zoe was out the door quicker than Misty could muster another glare. Cordelia hadn’t asked Zoe to tell her where she was going since she turned eighteen.

“Well, that was subtle,” Cordelia chuckled as she stood up and rounded her desk.

“Bull in a china shop,” Misty muttered as Cordelia hummed, sliding her hand to the back of Misty’s neck, fingers digging in as she leaned up to kiss her cheek, slow and easy. 

“Hi, Mist,” she mumbled into her skin. Misty’s chest tightened, breath caught in her throat. Cordelia pulled away, but not far, her thumb circling the nape of Misty’s neck as she gave her a gentle smile. She couldn’t seem to find the words to speak properly before Cordelia sidestepped her to turn off the radio playing in the background, something soft and light. “You could have come in, you know,” she said casually as Misty turned. 

“I didn’t wanna interrupt. You work so hard. An’ you get this look on your face.” 

“A look?” Cordelia mused as she trailed out of her office behind Misty who spun around and took a few steps backwards. 

“Yeah, you know, it’s like...scrunched. You scrunch up. All stern-like,” she explained, and Cordelia raised an eyebrow, her hands behind her back as she stepped toward Misty. 

“And that intimidates you?” she asked, her voice lilting up. She backed Misty into the wall without even having to touch her, and Misty’s ears rang. Cordelia bit down on her lip, and she tracked Misty’s eyes as they flickered down. 

“No,” she answered quickly, defensively. It was easier to say no than to tell Cordelia that Misty’s anxiety made everything about her. Sensing a quick shift in tone, Cordelia reached out and ran her hands down Misty’s arms, clasping her hands tightly. 

“You’re always welcome next to me,” she breathed, and a smile bloomed on Misty’s cheeks, something uncoiling inside her. Cordelia fought a smile and leaned forward to press her lips to Misty’s. Something about the kiss surprised her the same way it surprised her whenever there was frost in the morning in the middle of June. It was refreshing and exciting, and it made her shiver. Grounding herself in Cordelia’s lips, she pressed in and raised her hands to cup her cheeks. Kissing her once, twice, and then again just because she couldn’t stop herself, Misty bit back a giddy smile. 

“I sure do like doin’ that,” she sighed. Cordelia raised a hand to hold Misty’s, resting so gently on her cheek. 

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted, her voice soft and high, almost embarrassed. The tenderness in her words almost melted Misty where she stood, but she couldn’t seem to remember that they were about her.

“Pretty sure I saw you at breakfast,” she teased, and Cordelia pulled Misty’s hands down from her cheeks. 

“I’m surprised. You seemed too focused on your eggs to notice anything else,” she smiled, her voice bouncing in the back of her throat as she tried to keep from laughing. Then she bit deep into her lip, thinking. “I’m sorry we’ve barely seen each other this week.” 

Just by association, Misty was starting to understand the demands of being the Supreme, and there were certainly many. Aside from teaching classes of her own, there seemed to be endless amounts of other things to worry about like paperwork that manifested itself in great stacks out of thin air, and managing an ever growing swarm of young women who had their own wants and worries, and keeping the coven safe from prying eyes or malevolent forces or whatever else it was that threatened the stability of Cordelia’s coven. It made Misty’s head swim to think about.

“I know you get busy bein’ the Supreme an’ all,” she teased, squeezing Cordelia’s hands. She squeezed them back, but Misty feared it was more out of guilt than understanding. 

“Since you’ve refused to tell me where you’re taking me tonight, could you at least tell me if I’m dressed appropriately?” Cordelia mused, swaying closer, her perfume clouding Misty’s head. She hummed, making a show of looking Cordelia over, leaning back but keeping their hands clasped tight. 

“Maybe something lighter.” 

“Lighter?” she repeated, fiddling with one of Misty’s rings. 

“Something you can move in.” She could tell that had Cordelia curious, and her eyes sparkled deviously. Misty barely had a moment to breathe before Cordelia pulled her close and swayed them in a poor imitation of some half conceived box step. 

“You think I can’t move in this?” she defended, fingers splayed against the small of Misty’s back and the other hand holding hers at shoulder level. Misty laughed at her clumsy steps and firm posture.

“You’re as rigid as a pair of scissors, Miss Supreme,” Misty mocked, her own body loose as she curled into Cordelia’s edges. “But you’re right. It’s not the clothes.” 

Cordelia huffed quietly into her ear and pulled back to narrow her pretty brown eyes at Misty. It was supposed to be challenging, but all Misty wanted to do was kiss her. 

“You think I’m uptight?” 

“Can’t tell if you’re looking for a serious answer or a silly one,” Misty offered, watching something flicker behind Cordelia’s eyes. 

She always held herself so tightly, but Misty knew she was strung together with frayed stitching. It was only behind closed doors that Misty was able to glimpse all the anxieties she harbored like antiques that gathered dust on her shelves. Cordelia was radiant in the most wonderful ways, empathetic to a fault and impossible to pin down. Misty loved that about her, the grace with which she held herself and almost most of all her presence. It was something like pure warmth and as sweet as honey. Sometimes Misty convinced herself she could feel that sort of thing, auras. She knew Cordelia’s would feel like sunlight on a still pond. Though Misty knew Cordelia’s waters grew cold the deeper they sank. Cordelia would surely call it selfishness, ramble on about cowardice or shyness or the way she never quite felt at home in the world like it was some kind of abnormality. Supremacy had made Cordelia stronger, more resilient, more _herself_ , but old wounds were the hardest to heal, and Misty knew that better than anyone. 

The hesitancy in Cordelia’s eyes seemed to surprise even her because she quickly pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Neither, I think.” 

Misty leaned close and rested her chin on Cordelia’s shoulder, her hold on Misty starting to feel more like an embrace.

“I never thought you were uptight.” 

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Cordelia said. Misty frowned. She didn’t like the bittersweet resignation in her tone. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she countered without missing a beat. They were silent for a moment, and Misty felt Cordelia’s thumb drawing circles in her back. She was thinking. 

“Misty. Before you met me I was hopelessly restless and afraid. I admired your carefree nature, the way you held yourself, the way you see the world. I still do. You helped me realize I could be something better than I was.” Misty swallowed at the confession, turning her head so her cheek was against Cordelia’s shoulder, her arm draped over Cordelia’s back. She was starting to remember that they were in the hallway, liable to be stumbled upon by a student. She closed her eyes. 

“When I looked at you then, even at the beginning, I saw every ounce of strength you didn’t think ya had. I meant it when I said you were an awesome leader. Proved me right, didn’t ya?” Cordelia sighed, leaning in to kiss the skin between Misty’s neck and shoulder. There was something unspoken in the kiss, almost like guilt again, lingering and desperately firm. She knew it stemmed from Misty’s failed attempt at the Seven Wonders. No matter how many times Misty assured her that it wasn’t her fault, Cordelia wouldn’t hear it, the anger and humiliation and aching guilt eating away at her. “Go change,” Misty hummed, pulling away to look her in the eyes, to ground her. “Meet you at the door?” Cordelia mustered a smile and nodded, stroking Misty’s cheek once with the back of her hand before brushing past her. 

Misty watched her walk out of sight before meandering to the front door. Most of the time they’d spent together that week had been stolen. At meals and between classes when students were filtering through, they’d share small conversations, snatches of intimacy they could long for in private when the smiles wouldn’t leave their faces. Though Misty’s favorite moments were the ones in the greenhouse, shrouded in the dark of evening after everyone had settled in for the night. They tended to the plants together, and Cordelia would ask her about her lessons, genuinely interested, letting Misty talk and talk until she got sick of herself and blushed. And then Cordelia, in all her nervous modesty, would talk about her day as if leading a coven was somehow an easy job. They’d talk endlessly about things Misty could barely recall, easy as breathing, until their conversations turned quiet, turned gentle, and gradually melted into neck kisses and fleeting touches. 

She supposed she’d been drawn to Cordelia in an innocent sort of way, consumed by the mere thought of her smile and the way she said Misty’s name. Though that wasn’t completely right in the same way that sunsets are less of an end and more of a beginning. Misty had never done romance the way other people did, had never felt the immediacy of attraction like others had. So for her whole life she thought that something was wrong with her. She was starting to realize that maybe she’d just never trusted anyone enough to let herself feel those things. Relationships, the conventional way, didn’t seem like something she’d ever be able to do, but with Cordelia it was easier to imagine doing it her own way. 

The intensity of her feelings embarrassed her, nearly scared her, and she fiddled with her rings. Cordelia was far from impatient, but Misty had never done the whole dating thing, not properly, not the way the other girls did, and certainly not the way Cordelia had done with Hank...before Hank. She felt silly and immature. She knew too well the sting of being someone’s plaything, and she worried that Cordelia would get frustrated with her inexperience, with her trauma. After everything Cordelia’s been through, she deserved an easy love. 

Clicking footsteps on the stairs snapped her from her swirling thoughts, and she looked up to find Cordelia at the bottom of the steps coming towards her in a floral chiffon dress. She was sure her mouth had fallen open because Cordelia’s eyes flickered away in embarrassment. 

“You look pretty as a dream, Cordelia,” Misty gushed, and she grinned at the way Cordelia smiled so softly. If Misty could bottle how it felt to make her smile, she’d be rich as the day is long. 

“So what exactly is the plan for tonight?” Cordelia asked as they strolled down the sidewalk after sunset. New Orleans was bustling with activity on a warm Friday evening, and the orange streetlights were making Cordelia’s eyes sparkle, the soft breeze tugging at the waves of her dress. “I’ve been waiting all week to find out.” 

“You’re gonna have to wait a while longer, then, ‘cause I was hopin’ you’d be in the mood for a beignet first.” 

“I would love a beignet,” she laughed, bumping shoulders with Misty. “To be honest, I didn’t really have dinner,” she admitted almost sheepishly. 

“Cordelia, it’s past eight. Lemme buy you some real food,” she offered, frowning, as they passed a group of young women, already drunk. Cordelia skirted past them, gently holding onto Misty’s arm to keep from losing her. 

“That’s sweet, but I’m okay, really,” she smiled, her hand trailing down Misty’s arm until their fingers were interlocked. She squeezed, and Misty squeezed back. “Sometimes I get so focused I forget to eat,” she shrugged, and Misty ran her thumb over the back of Cordelia’s hand. The girls at the academy didn’t eat together on Friday nights, and Misty knew that was probably why she didn’t bother making herself anything. She pretended not to be mildly concerned at the new information and tucked it away for later, already planning the meal she was going to take to Cordelia’s office next Friday. 

As they sat on a bench with their beignets, Cordelia tracked the people as they walked by. The air was sweet and warm, and she looked happy, though she didn’t seem quite at ease. That was rare for Cordelia. There was always a tightness in her shoulders and her forehead that gave her away. Misty took a large bite and watched Cordelia’s eyes flicker between strolling couples and tired families and tipsy groups of young people yelling about something. 

“You like people watching?” Misty asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Cordelia startled, her breath hitching as she turned to Misty. 

“I suppose I do. It’s...relaxing.” Her shoulders dipped when she said it, and Misty took it as a good sign. 

“Are you nervous?” she couldn’t help but ask, and Cordelia turned to her, wiping her fingers on her napkin. 

“Not when I’m with you. Are you?” There was something coaxing in her voice that made Misty tense. Cordelia ripped the edge of her napkin and cocked her head. “In my office, you seemed…” she shook her head, and Misty swallowed her food.

“A little. I guess,” she shrugged. 

“Why?” Misty set her beignet down and picked at the skin around her nail. She’d been hoping to avoid this conversation. 

“I don’t...I dunno, a date is official. I don’t wanna screw it up.” It was only a partial truth, and she knew Cordelia could tell. 

“It doesn’t have to be official if that’s not what you want. There aren’t any rules we have to follow, you know.”

Misty was trying to believe Cordelia, she really was, but she couldn’t help worrying about the things Cordelia expected from a relationship with formalized dates and if Misty could give that to her. Structure frightened her because it felt like a barrier rather than a support, and Misty was good at running when she felt caged. She’d been thinking a lot about last weekend when they were in her bed. She’d been trying to block herself crying half naked into Cordelia’s shoulder out of her memory. It hadn’t worked. Instead, her embarrassment just grew into shame. Since then, Cordelia had been careful, only touching where she knew Misty had touched her, only kissing places Misty had felt comfortable kissing on Cordelia. It was quiet and gentle, and Misty wanted to scream out of frustration. She wished she wasn’t like this, but most of all she wished Cordelia didn’t have to tread so lightly. 

“I know,” Misty mirrored. 

“Besides, it’s not actually possible for you to screw this up,” she added, smiling. “There’s no pressure.” 

Misty watched her eat the last of her beignet and couldn’t help the smile that prickled at her heavy cheeks when her mouth came back dusted in powdered sugar. 

“What?” Cordelia laughed. Misty reached out and swiped her thumb across the corner of Cordelia’s mouth. She blushed but stayed still as Misty trailed along her upper lip. “Gone?” She barely spoke above a whisper.

By the time they reached their ultimate destination, Cordelia was in the middle of a story about breaking up a fight over the last blanket for movie night. “You’d have thought it was the end of the world. I mean, she was hysterical, poor thing. _I_ almost started crying,” she laughed, swinging Misty’s hand between them. Misty swallowed, wondering if she’d felt the same when Misty had been crying. The thought turned her stomach, and she broke their hands, motioning to the front door. 

“After you,” she offered, and Cordelia looked up at the blue neon sign. It was a jazz club, one of Misty’s favorites. She’d been there with Madison and Queenie and Mallory and Coco the one time she was coerced into thinking it would be a good idea to party with Madison. Mallory and Coco were the only ones who actually enjoyed it with her. They’d even gone together a couple times after. But Madison, in typical Madison fashion, had called it a snooze fest and berated them for choosing such a downer until she finally dragged them to a louder, more suffocating bar where all they played were the top 100 hits. Misty had walked home by herself that night at 11. 

The dim, warm lighting enveloped Cordelia like it was meant for her, the shadows dancing off her cheekbones and making her eyes appear deeper and darker. Misty directed her to a U-shaped booth against the wall. When she came back with their drinks, Cordelia had her chin in her palm, watching the band perform something jaunty as couples swung their partners around the floor. 

“I didn’t even know this place was here,” Cordelia said in awe, sipping her mint julep. Misty nodded, fiddling with her beer. It was quieter back there, but they were still close enough to enjoy the band. 

“I like the music. Reminds me of when I was little,” she said, taking a swig. “My mama played the piano in this little jazz band. They’d go out and play on summer nights, have a bonfire. The whole town’d get together. It was its own kinda magic, I guess.”

Cordelia trailed her finger along the condensation of her glass, a faint smile on her lips. “That sounds wonderful.” Misty took another gulp. “Do you play?” 

“A whole lifetime and a half ago.” Misty’s smile wavered, and Cordelia sipped her drink. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Your place in the swamp. Did you build that? After?” The _before_ implied in Cordelia’s _after_ was when she was burned at the stake. Misty took a long drink of her beer. At least Cordelia didn’t look pitying like everyone else did when they inevitably brought it up with her. It was something she was usually able to close the door on in her mind the way she’d learned to close the door on her time in hell, to compartmentalize.

“I found it,” she said, tilting the bottle by the lip with the tip of her finger. “Wanderin’ around covered head to toe in Louisiana mud, dazed outta my mind. Saw it like a vision through the trees. It sounds stupid, but I felt like a baby deer imprinting on that old shack,” she half laughed, shaking her head. “Like I was drawn there or something, I dunno. It felt safe, so I made it my home.” Misty went back sometimes, spent a weekend or a week. When Nan brought her back from hell, she spent a month there.

“It’s not easy to create a safe space for yourself without letting it consume you,” Cordelia mused. It was only when Misty had had to care for Kyle that she realized how deeply the swamp had swallowed her, how strange she must have seemed to Zoe. She’d never really been much of a people person, always drifting in and out of her thoughts, taking comfort in nature when others just disappointed her. “I buried myself so deep to hide from my mother, I didn’t even realize I cut myself off from everyone else too,” Cordelia said, her voice more timid than usual. Misty understood that feeling, and she reached over to squeeze Cordelia’s hand to prove it. She smiled weakly back. 

“Do you want another?” Misty asked. 

“Yes, please,” Cordelia gasped, relieved. 

Soon they were laughing about things they’d overheard the girls say in class, and Misty was having trouble catching her breath. Cordelia had switched to gin and tonic, and Misty was on her second bourbon. “I swear to you, Delia, she pulled out a book called, oh, um, _Astrology for Beginner Witches_. It was all blue and green and it had little constellations on the front.” Cordelia sputtered, setting down her glass. She laughed and coughed, and Misty’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as she handed her a napkin. 

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told them, astrology has no basis in the occult. It’s not witchcraft,” Cordelia laughed, wiping the table where she’d spilled. 

“Oh come on, tell me you don’t look at your horoscope. Just for fun,” Misty grinned, leaning forward. Cordelia scoffed. “So you’re fine with divination and tarot but not astrology?” 

“Tarot is a powerful tool, not to be taken lightly. I just don’t think you can tell my whole personality based on what month I was born in,” she offered, straightening her shoulders. Misty bit her lip. 

“What’s your sign?” 

“Virgo.” 

“Oh, that was quick,” Misty laughed, and Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Fits, though.” 

She leaned forward again, resting her arms on the table. “You?” 

“Pisces.” 

“Hmm,” Cordelia mused, looking Misty over. 

“Hmm, what?” Misty smiled, the heat from her bourbon coloring her cheeks. 

“I’ll have to consult my astrology guidebook before we can go on another date,” Cordelia hummed, and Misty laughed, her back hitting the cushion behind her. Cordelia bit her lip, watching Misty with sparkling eyes. “Come on,” she breathed, standing up and stepping to Misty’s side of the booth. She held out her hand. “I think I’ve drank enough to dance with you now.”

Slowly, Misty smiled, and then she grinned, and then she was laughing as she took Cordelia’s hand, letting her lead them to the floor. The band was playing something lively, the saxophone smooth and quick, a bass keeping time behind it. Misty kept hold of both Cordelia’s hands as they found a space between the others. She could tell Cordelia was nervous, her shoulders tense as Misty found the rhythm. Cordelia tried to follow, but her movements were stiff and awkward, her eyes darting to the people around them. To pull her out of her head, Misty spun her, her dress billowing out. Wide eyed, Cordelia stumbled as she pulled her back in. And as she crashed against Misty’s chest, she was smiling so big Misty thought it might split her cheeks. 

Her movements loosened, in gradual degrees, until she was following Misty’s steps, mimicking in clumsy jolts. She laughed, open mouthed and giddy as she tripped against Misty’s boots. She’d never seen Cordelia like this before, the joy spilling from her in brilliant waves. Her eyes were sparkling in the smoky lights, locked onto Misty’s, and she couldn’t help but laugh with her. The world blurred out around them, and Misty could feel her heartbeat right down to the tips of her fingers. She wondered if this was what a date was supposed to feel like or if Cordelia was just pure magic. 

When the song came to an end, they slowed, trying to catch their breaths. A few people filtered off as something soulful and meandering grew from the saxophone. Misty met Cordelia’s eyes and held out her hand. She took it without question, letting Misty pull her into her arms. 

“Thank you for taking me here,” Cordelia said into Misty’s ear, their cheeks grazing as they swayed.

“You’re happy?” Misty’s fingers intertwined against Cordelia’s lower back. 

“With you, always,” she breathed, twisting Misty’s hair around her finger. Her skin was sticky with sweat, and she smelled like honeysuckle in the sun. “Are you still nervous?” 

“I think it’s just a state of being,” Misty chuckled. Cordelia held her tighter, kissing the shell of her ear and taking a deep breath. She didn’t say anything, and Misty didn’t need her to, but she squeezed her eyes shut anyway. “‘M sorry. I shouldn’t’ve said that.” 

“Please don’t apologize,” she breathed. Misty dug her nail into her thumb, wondering when Cordelia was going to get sick of saying that. “Come on, let’s sit down, I'm starting to drip,” she muttered, pulling back and leading Misty to their booth. She sat down next to Cordelia and watched as she pulled her hair off her shoulders and fanned her face. The little hairs at the base of her neck were wet, and her cheeks were flushed red. A bead of sweat dripped down her temple, and Misty wiped it away, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

“It’s cooler outside,” she offered, pressing the back of her fingers to Cordelia’s cheek. She swallowed and shook her head, letting her hair fall. 

“It’s the alcohol. I’m fine,” she said, picking up her gin and tonic and downing the last of it. Misty was feeling the warmth of her bourbon too as it slid through her veins. 

“Another?” 

Cordelia bit her lip. “ _One_ more. And I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Misty slid out to let her go, but Cordelia latched onto her shoulder. “Misty,” she breathed, scooting closer. “Honey, wait.” Misty’s chest tightened, her whole body buzzing as Cordelia grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her. She tasted like pine and mint with the sweet sting of bourbon underneath, and Misty nearly melted into her. “Okay, you can go,” she hummed, and Misty blinked, trying to comprehend. “What?” she laughed. 

“You called me honey.” 

Cordelia cocked her head, swiping her thumb across Misty’s chin. “Is that okay?” 

“I liked it,” Misty admitted, her voice wavering. Cordelia had called her honey and even sweetheart before but never in public. It had only ever been whispered into her skin or sighed so sweetly when they were alone. “I mean…” she bit her lip as Cordelia’s eyes sparkled. “I like hearing it in front of people.” 

Cordelia laughed, something between a hum and a giggle as she held Misty’s jaw. “I like saying it. Not too official for you?” 

“Just the right amount.” 

While Cordelia was in the bathroom, Misty stood at the bar waiting for another round of drinks. She felt loose and light, the alcohol starting to seep into her vision. With her forearms splayed across the bar, she rapped her fingers on the sticky varnish and watched the bartender with another customer.

“Is that tiger’s eye?” Misty startled, turning to find a man with crow’s feet around his eyes and a bright, white smile. He tapped the ring on her middle finger, and she curled her hands into her body, frowning. 

“Tiger’s eye. Yeah,” she breathed, forcing a smile. 

“It’s pretty. Like you,” he said over the music. Misty’s smile flickered, something in her chest growing tight. She brushed her tangled hair behind her ear, lips pressed together, not sure how to respond and not wanting to. “Drinking alone tonight?” 

“No, I’m here with my, uh, I’m...no. Not alone.” 

“Sounds complicated,” he laughed, leaning against the bar, drink cradled against his chest. 

“It’s not.”

“Could have fooled me,” he hummed, taking a drink. She bit the inside of her cheek. “What’s his name?” 

“Her name’s Cordelia. Actually,” Misty offered, shifting her weight. His eyes locked onto her then as he cocked his head. The implication was clear enough. She’d never been in this situation before and felt herself tensing in preparation for what she was sure wasn’t going to be a polite response. 

“Cordelia. Sounds stuffy,” he grimaced, shifting closer to her. Misty took a half step back, standing up straighter. “Bet she is ‘cause it definitely rubbed off on you. I could loosen you right up, you know?” Something curdled in Misty’s stomach, and she grimaced. He took a step closer, leaning in, and Misty leaned back. “There’s a secret, see. I can make any woman putty in my fucking hands,” he grinned, eyes sparkling wildly as he held out his palm much too close to Misty’s throat for her comfort. Her hand balled into a fist at her side. 

“Good for you,” she grit out, turning back to the bar. She could barely breathe, her chest was so tight. She tried to focus on flagging down the bartender, but her attention was starting to split between the present and her own traitorous thoughts. She’d been promised similar things before by little boys who wanted to sneak away with her, who would snake their hands up her thighs. Though it was never actually about Misty’s pleasure, she’d learned to accept their aggression as something she was expected to enjoy. She almost convinced herself she did, but it was the sting of pain that kept the _almost_ firmly in its place.

“Come on. Every great theory needs a case study,” he said, his thick fingers wrapping around her wrist and squeezing. 

“Back the fuck off,” Misty growled, yanking her arm away with force that seemed to surprise him because his expression gave way, and he even had the audacity to laugh. Misty’s breathing quickened, firmly rooted in the present now with all the bruising anger of her past welling in her chest. 

“Feisty. I like it,” he grinned, swaying closer. Misty’s throat closed as she shoved him back. Though she would have done the same if she was sober, the alcohol was making her anger easier to justify. A few heads around them turned, and the man laughed them off, but she could see his restless agitation underneath. 

“Asshole,” Misty hissed. She felt loose and tight at the same time, a fire burning in her stomach as she watched him lick his lips, his eyes darkening. She was one lewd comment away from punching his fucking teeth out. 

“Bitch,” he spat back. Her whole body vibrating, Misty’s hand tightened into a fist. Before she could pull her arm back the man’s wrist flicked, spilling his drink all down his shirt. His eyes widened, confused and angry, and Misty barely realized she was holding her breath until a warm hand was on her shoulder. 

“What the hell is going on here?” It was Cordelia, her voice tense. 

“She spilled my fucking drink,” he nearly yelled, slamming his now empty tumbler on the bar. 

“I didn’t touch your fucking drink,” Misty countered, and Cordelia grabbed her other shoulder too, pulling her back just enough for Misty to realize she’d been moving toward him. 

“He’s not worth it,” Cordelia said to her, quiet and gentle. The man scoffed, blotting his shirt with napkins as he eyed her up and down. 

“Just like I thought. Stuffy,” he spat, anger radiating off him. Misty could feel the anger radiating off Cordelia as well, her magic swirling around her in dangerous waves. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. Your girlfriend here could do better.”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re better?” she asked, her eyes fiery. Misty grabbed her arm. 

“Cordelia, stop,” she said firmly, stepping between the two of them. “Let’s go,” she ground out, leading her back to their booth.

“Are you okay?” Cordelia asked, trying to keep up with Misty’s long strides. 

“I’m fine. I was perfectly fine.” 

“He was practically drooling on you,” Cordelia hissed. Misty huffed and sat down. 

“I was handling it,” she snapped, heart racing. Cordelia sat back against her seat and frowned. “I still have to get our drinks.” 

“I’ll go,” Cordelia breathed, and before Misty could protest she was up and walking toward the bar. 

Misty watched her talk to the bartender, watched her linger just a few people away from the man still trying to dab away the alcohol from his shirt. The energy she exuded was powerful and untouchable. Misty could feel her magic lingering in the air from there, the crackling of her anger like static electricity. 

When she came back, she seemed calmer but still guarded, eyeing Misty like she was checking for damages or expected her to be upset. Misty bit the inside of her cheek and grabbed her drink, downing half her bourbon in one gulp. 

“You didn’t have to do that. With your magic,” she said, setting down her glass. She hoped the alcohol would dull the anger that hadn’t settled yet. Cordelia took a long drink of her gin and tonic. She’d gotten both of them doubles. 

“He was harassing you,” she pointed out. 

“I can handle my own problems.”

“Misty, I was halfway across the bar. Spilling his drink was the only thing I could do to stop you from punching him in the face,” she let out a frustrated laugh, leaning forward on the table. Misty’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and she dug her nail into her thumb. 

“You don’t have to protect me from myself. I’m not a child.” Misty’s anger was cold and bitter, and Cordelia swallowed. 

“Protect you from your...Misty, I...I know you’re not a child I just...Jesus,” she sighed, brushing her fingers over her forehead and letting them fall to the table. “Listen, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I panicked. I didn’t want to see you hurt.” 

“You let me beat Madison bloody, but you don’t want me punching some loser in a bar?” 

“That was different,” Cordelia sighed. Misty didn’t answer. She knew it was different and completely irrelevant. And she knew her anger was boiling out of her control at this point, but she couldn’t stop it. So she downed the rest of her bourbon and got mad at the way a strand of her hair was curling directly into her eye. 

“I ain’t fragile. I can hold my own,” she said firmly, but her voice cracked as she briefly met Cordelia’s eyes. They were unexpectedly tender, and Misty could tell they were both wondering which one of them she was trying to convince. 

“I _know_ ,” Cordelia breathed. “Misty, I know. Look at me. Sweetheart, look at me.” Misty’s throat was closing up, and her knee was bobbing underneath the table. It felt like the world around her was shrinking. It wasn’t until Cordelia reached forward and grabbed her hands that Misty looked up. “You are the strongest person I know.” She stopped then, considering her next words. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t...that you still don’t have any unhealed wounds.” Already feeling like a rotted tree on the brink of collapse, Cordelia’s words sent tears to Misty’s eyes. “Oh, Misty,” Cordelia whispered, sliding around the booth to run her hand down Misty’s back. She shook her head, angrily willing away the tears before they could fall. “It’s okay. I just wish you’d tell me about it, so you don’t go around punching people,” she cooed, and Misty would have laughed if her chest wasn’t still tight as a drum. Cordelia just kissed her head as she held the back of Misty’s neck, her thumb drawing circles there. Misty knew she had to speak, had to explain. She just had no idea what to say. 

“I don’t even. Fuck. I...christ, I’m…” Misty was having trouble catching her breath all of a sudden, hitching and gasping until she recognized what she was feeling as panic. Cordelia shushed her gently, kissing the side of her head, tightening and loosening her grip on Misty’s neck. “Sorry, god…”

“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Cordelia breathed, gathering Misty’s heavy hair in her hand and pushing it off her neck. Misty squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her palms into her thighs. The alcohol was making her feel like she was spiraling, and Misty was desperately trying to hold on. “Shh, shh, Misty, I’m right here. Take a deep breath with me.” She could hear Cordelia inhaling, and she tried to copy, but her breath caught too early. She followed a second time, and it was a little easier. “Take my hand.” Cordelia’s warm palm covered her balled fist, and Misty latched on like it was a life raft in a storm. “Good, now breathe with me again.” Misty did as she was told, and slowly, steady breath after steady breath, her lungs unclenched themselves. “Look at me.” 

“I don’t want to,” Misty admitted, and she knew it was a little petulant, but she worried if she had to look at Cordelia she might actually start crying. She hadn’t had a panic attack since she came back from hell. 

“Why not?” 

“It’s humiliating.” Even that was a difficult admission, and Cordelia knew it, her thumb stopping its circles on her neck. 

“Misty, I’ve helped you through panic attacks before. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You know that,” Cordelia said softly. The first time had been soon after Nan brought her back. Worried, Cordelia had followed Misty to the swamp when she left the academy unexpectedly one morning. She’d been withdrawn and startled easily, was stirred to anger at the smallest things, and when her eyes unfocused in the middle of a conversation she often stopped breathing. They fought, like they’d fought tonight, and it ended with Misty on her knees, Cordelia cupping her cheeks and telling her to breathe. It was something Misty had come to appreciate more than she could comprehend, but it was also one of the things she’d had to close the door on in her mind in order to survive. 

“That was before you kissed me,” Misty said. 

“The only thing that’s changed between then and now is that I can care about you more openly,” Cordelia countered. “Please look at me.” Misty did, swallowing. She’d forgotten they were still in the bar. “Ever since we started this _decidedly unofficial_ ,” Cordelia smiled, and Misty’s lips flickered too in spite of herself, “thing, I feel like you’ve been...I don’t know. It’s like there’s something you’re keeping from me. I mean, you’ve been so nervous, and you’ve never been this way around me before. And I don’t...need you to tell me everything or _anything_ if you don’t want to. I just...I feel like you’re _closed_ , and I...oh, Misty, I just wish you could be open with me.” 

The admission made Misty’s head spin. She wished she could take Cordelia into her arms and make this all go away. She hadn’t thought her anxieties would cause other people pain, and the realization made her want to throw up. 

“I thought I was better at hiding it,” she forced a laugh so that she wouldn’t cry. Cordelia deflated next to her, and Misty immediately regretted opening her mouth. 

“Misty, I can feel it. I mean, I can see it too, and you’ve told me, but I can,” she took her hand from Misty’s neck and pressed it over her heart, “I can really feel it. Your magic.”

“What?” she choked, embarrassment clouding her vision. 

“Remember when I told you that your magic is special?” Cordelia asked delicately, and Misty nodded, swallowing. “You have the power of resurgence, yes, but it’s more than that. It’s like you radiate yourself outward. I’ve never...I mean, it’s...Misty, it’s just breathtaking. And sometimes I catch the way you feel too. Like an energy. Frankly, I think the only reason I’m able to pick up on it is because I’m more sensitive to that sort of thing now. I suppose it comes with the title,” she half laughed, watching Misty closely. 

“What did you feel?” she asked hollowly, and Cordelia squeezed her hand. 

“You have to know I’m not...prying into your mind. I block it out as soon as…”

“I know,” Misty nodded. Cordelia took a breath. “I just wanna know what you felt.” 

“It was when I was coming back from the bathroom. I could feel your anger across the room, but it was more than that. You were scared. Just not of him.” 

Misty’s breathing hitched. She knew it wasn’t Cordelia’s fault, but she felt like someone had just read her diary. “Can we go?” Misty choked, and Cordelia nodded immediately. 

Once they were out in the cool night air, Misty realized that she was much more tipsy than she’d thought. The street felt less real and less steady than it normally did, and she wondered how Cordelia was feeling, having barely eaten anything since lunch. Her steps looked very deliberate, and Misty smiled softly to herself. 

“Are you drunk?” 

“Most definitely,” Cordelia answered, looking at her and smiling. Her eyes were sparkling, nose red from the chill. 

“Can I tell you something anyway?” Misty asked, gathering herself. 

“I’m not _that_ drunk,” Cordelia chuckled, grabbing Misty’s hand. “Anything,” she breathed, leaning into her. 

She took a deep breath, bracing herself. “I’m humiliated at myself and terrified of you.” Cordelia stopped walking. Before Misty could take it back, Cordelia pulled her to a bench and sat them down. She didn’t say anything, just cradled Misty’s hand in hers. “I’ve been thinkin’ about last weekend a lot, and I just wanna kick myself for crying like that it was...I shouldn’t’ve put that burden on you, and tonight too, it ain’t fair. You don’t deserve all my…”

“Misty, stop,” Cordelia interrupted. “First of all, you are not a burden to me. Not remotely. Not ever. And I know, _I know_ , that it’s hard to believe that, but I promise it’s true. And I’ll say it as often as you need me to until you believe it.” 

“Delia, I care for you so much. All I want is for you to be happy,” she pleaded, licking her lips.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“I’m scared I can’t give you what ya need. An’ that you’re gonna get sick of tellin’ me it’s okay. I’m not...Delia, I’m not good at relationships. They all turn out shit.” 

“You are the most tender, kind-hearted person I know. You know how I know you’re good at relationships? The way you look at me,” Cordelia countered. “The way you make me _feel_. And I’m so sorry that someone else made you think that’s not enough.” 

“What if I can’t ever let you touch me like ya want?” Misty asked, her voice choked and quiet. Cordelia sensed that they were touching on the root problem, and she let the tension in her shoulders go. 

“Oh, Misty,” she breathed, pushing Misty’s hair behind her ear and holding her cheek in her palm. Blinking back tears, Misty leaned into the touch. “We don’t ever have to have sex again if that’s not what you want.” A tear dripped onto Cordelia’s thumb, and she brushed it away. “Come here,” she whispered, raising her other hand to hold Misty’s face. She brought their foreheads together and closed her eyes. “You’re trembling,” Cordelia frowned. 

“I’m scared,” Misty said. 

“Is this what you’ve been worried about since last weekend?” she asked, holding her cheeks so tenderly. Misty could only nod, and Cordelia pulled her into her arms. “When I said we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to I meant sex in general too. You just have to tell me.” 

Misty remembered Cordelia saying that last weekend, but the reality of the sentence hadn’t fully sunk in then and it still didn’t make sense to her now. “Do you mean that?” 

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t,” she said. “Misty, do you regret...last weekend?” Misty pulled away. 

“No. I really do like touchin’ you, Delia,” she said, “more than I’ve ever liked touchin’ anyone else in my life, actually,” she admitted, and Cordelia’s lips curled up ever so slightly. “I’ve never been with a woman before. I didn’t know it could feel like that.” 

“Misty, I…”

“Wait, I’ve gotta say this,” she stopped Cordelia with a hand on her knee and then anxiously placed it back in her own lap. “The reason I have such a hard time believin’ you when ya say it doesn’t matter is ‘cause back home, before the swamp, I didn’t...I mean, when I was datin’ boys, sex was always...an expectation. And it wasn’t ever discussed like this. Mutually, I mean. And if I didn’t wanna fuck any of ‘em, I had to really tell ‘em no. Then I just got discarded like a dirty sock. I don’t think I’ve ever...been intimate with someone the way you’re intimate with me. And this week I was so frustrated because I felt like you were dancin’ around me like some china doll, an’ I couldn’t even give you the thing you wanted, an’ I’m just...I’m terrified. I’m so scared. I’m waitin’ for the other shoe to drop.” 

Misty had to really fight to catch her breath when she stopped talking, her body rebelling against her, on the verge of another panic attack as she trembled next to Cordelia. She watched her swallow and blink, her brows knit together so tightly, before she reached out to brush Misty’s cheek with the back of her fingers. She hadn’t realized she was crying. 

“Thank you for telling me,” she said, her voice cracking. “I promise, Misty, there is no other shoe to drop. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Misty warned, her throat tight. 

“I hope you do,” Cordelia smiled, stroking her cheek before setting her hand back in her lap. Misty took a breath. 

“I’m sorry I got angry. It wasn’t really about you.” 

“I’m sorry I stepped in. I know you can take care of yourself. I’ve just been worried about you. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what it was, and I didn’t want you to shut me out if I asked,” Cordelia offered, and Misty swallowed. 

“It’s hard to let you see me,” she breathed, and Cordelia nodded. 

“I know.” 

“Probably should’ve done it sooner.” 

“I’m glad you did it now,” she countered, firm but gentle. “I just want us to be on the same page. I can’t be there for you if I don’t know what’s going on, and, Misty, god, I want nothing more,” she breathed, reaching to hold Misty’s hands. Cordelia’s thumbs drew circles over her knuckles, and Misty took a deep, shuddering breath. 

“Would you take me home, Delia?” 

“I’d love to,” she smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect this chapter to be 20 pages, but here we are 20 pages later, forcibly restraining myself from writing more. Would love to hear your thoughts!


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as I was writing I realized this fic is gonna be at least 5 chapters now! This is also the fastest I've ever written and posted another chapter, so I hope you like it!
> 
> Also, would recommend listening to "Where I'll Find You" by Joan Shelley before reading! I also played "music for indigo" by Adrianne Lenker on repeat while writing this, so if you're into that sort of thing have a listen! There's no lyrics, so it won't be distracting :)
> 
> WARNINGS!!! This chapter deals more directly with sexual assault/trauma and internalized homophobia. There are no explicit descriptions, but it does deal with the emotional ramifications. It starts slow near the end, so you’ll know when to stop if you don’t wanna read about that.

Sometimes, when the days weren’t too full of other things, Cordelia found the time to slip away. She’d close her eyes and walk the halls, trailing her fingers along faded paint, trying to preserve the seclusion of blindness. At first, it was terrifying, and it frustrated her endlessly amid already tumultuous times in Fiona’s coven. It was a burden she hadn’t thought she’d be able to bear, even with the visions. The first week of stumbling around the academy, her knees were so bruised, palms so scraped and wrists so sore, she wanted to scream. Instead, she mostly cried. 

She set to practicing, then, at night when the girls were asleep. She wandered the halls like an ailing ghost, her cane clicking on the hardwood, echoing through the house. It ended up being the only time she didn’t have to think or worry or plan. All she had to do was focus on putting one foot in front of the other, navigating and relearning all the corners of the space she’d called home for so long. It was so different in the dark, almost alive, like there was magic woven through the walls. In a way, she supposed, it was those nights that kept her sane. And it was a comfort to be able to come back to such an effective grounding technique every now and then. Her world was often large and busy and loud now that the coven had grown so drastically, and she didn’t have the time or the energy to let it overwhelm her. 

It shouldn’t have surprised her that she found herself wandering into the study every time, but it did. It always did with a painful little sting in her chest. She’d open her eyes to faded rugs and walls full of dead Supremes bearing down on her. There was a portrait of Myrtle sitting where Fiona’s would have been had she not decimated the coven so spectacularly. As passionately as she hated her mother, she did admire her flair for the dramatic in a macabre sort of way. Myrtle, however, had been more of a mother to Cordelia than Fiona ever was or wanted to be. And for that, she was a mother to this coven as well and more than deserving of a place upon the wall. Looking at Myrtle’s portrait didn’t make her cry anymore, but sometimes it sure did knock the wind right out of her. 

With an unsteady breath, she eased herself into a chair, running a hand down the side of her face. Sometimes when she felt lost, she looked at the empty chair next to her and imagined Myrtle staring back with all the tenderness she’d missed so much and asking, “What’s wrong, dear?” Cordelia wasn’t sure how to answer and just shook her head, looking down and fiddling with a button on her blouse. “You look troubled.” 

“I feel...helpless,” she admitted, meeting Myrtle’s fiercely inquisitive stare. It was easy to let herself feel small around Myrtle because, unlike others, she’d never used it against her. 

“Is this about Misty Day again?” she asked gently, head cocked, and Cordelia flushed just enough for Myrtle to chuckle. “I believe we had this exact same conversation when Nan brought her back from hell.” 

“I just can’t stand to see her hurt so much,” Cordelia choked and was surprised at how quickly she was stirred to tears. Myrtle could sense as much, almost before Cordelia could, and hummed. 

“Her pain isn’t your responsibility,” she offered patiently, and Cordelia scoffed. Myrtle had been telling her that since she was small, and she’d never figured out how to believe her. 

“I’ve never been through what she’s been through. I don’t know how to help her. And I...I can’t describe to you how much it physically hurts to see her flinch when I touch her sometimes. She just...stops. And her eyes glaze over, and I can’t reach her. If I could take all of her pain away, I would. In an _instant_ ,” she said firmly, wiping away the wetness at the corner of her eye. 

“You love too deeply. It’s always been your greatest asset and your biggest weakness,” Myrtle said, and Cordelia’s eyes flickered to hers in alarm. _Love?_ “Yes, that’s what I said.” 

“I didn’t say...” Cordelia countered, confused. 

“Oh, my dear, sweet Delia,” Myrtle sighed, amused, “Remember, I’m nothing but a figment of your imagination. I can only say what you already know to be true.” Her words knocked the breath out of Cordelia, ears ringing. 

“Miss Cordelia?” She blinked, turning to the doorway to find Mallory leaning against the frame, brow furrowed. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m…” she glanced at the chair next to her. Myrtle, of course, was gone. It stung, like it always did, and she swallowed. “Fine. I’m fine. What can I do for you?” 

“Oh, nothing, sorry. I was just wandering. I like the quiet,” she offered with a shrug. 

“Me too,” Cordelia breathed, smiling, “Come, sit.” Mallory did, taking Myrtle’s place and glancing around the wall. 

“I always feel kinda weird being in here,” she said, looking at Cordelia. “There’s an energy, you know.” 

“I do. I can feel it at night when everyone’s asleep,” she nodded, arrested, as she always was, by Mallory’s piercing stare. She was one of the newest additions to the coven, an incredibly talented young witch, and had integrated into the family quicker than Cordelia had ever seen. By the end of her first week, she was already sharing inside jokes with Coco and Queenie. Though the way she looked at them unsettled Cordelia a little, like she knew them more than they knew her. But, like everyone else, she cared for Mallory. In fact, Cordelia cared for her so much it surprised her sometimes, and she found herself taking Mallory under her wing the way Myrtle had done for Cordelia. 

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to.” 

“Okay,” Cordelia breathed, subconsciously bracing herself. 

“Why haven’t you asked me more about Misty?” 

The question startled Cordelia, and she forced down her pounding heart with a deep breath. “I’m not sure I follow.” 

“When Nan brought her back. She said it was because of me, and you never…” she shook her head, shrugging. “I guess I just thought you’d wanna know more. I was brand new in the coven, and I was getting favors from _hell_. Didn’t that scare you? I could have been anyone.” 

“I’m well aware that you’re not just anyone,” Cordelia laughed, and Mallory frowned, confused. “I can feel it,” she explained, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You _know_ us. I know you do. From a different time, maybe.” Mallory looked surprised behind her generally stoic disposition. 

“How?” she breathed, voice hoarse. 

“I don’t know. To be honest. It’s not like any magic I’ve ever dealt with before. It took some time, but I can feel it, once in a while, in the way you look at the others. Like when the sun peeks through the clouds and then it’s gone,” she answered. She couldn’t explain it, but the way Mallory looked away told her that her instincts had been right. 

“Why didn’t you ask at the beginning then? I would have...I mean, it would have scared me too much not to,” she said, and there was something floating behind her eyes that made Cordelia frown, fear tinged with a curious amount of awe. 

“I don’t think I wanted to know,” Cordelia answered honestly. “I was afraid that knowing would make it real, and I wasn’t convinced that that was even... _reality_ ,” she almost laughed, remembering what it felt like to see Misty stumble out of that light. She flushed, her chest tight, and looked down into her lap, taking a breath. “Anyway, I’m trying to accept gifts for what they are. I don’t need to know why. I just need to say thank you. And I don’t think I have yet,” Cordelia said curiously, watching Mallory struggle to meet her gaze. “Thank you, Mallory.” 

To her surprise, Mallory looked on the verge of tears, so Cordelia stood up, ushering Mallory up with her and then into her arms. She held the back of her head, stroking her hair and letting Mallory breathe, deep and quick. Eventually, she relaxed and hugged Cordelia back.

“It must have been very difficult, and you must have been very brave,” Cordelia whispered into her hair. Mallory didn’t answer, just held her tighter. She could have sworn she heard a sniffle but ignored it so as not to embarrass her too much. 

“Sometimes none of this feels real,” she admitted quietly. Cordelia frowned, resting her cheek on Mallory’s head. It frightened her to imagine the circumstances that necessitated time travel, and unless it was absolutely unavoidable, Cordelia would like never to know. 

“If you ever need a reminder, my door’s always open,” she offered as Mallory pulled away, discreetly wiping her eyes. “Come on, let’s go see what the others are up to,” she smiled and Mallory nodded. They made their way through the halls in a comfortable silence, but Cordelia’s mind was spinning. She couldn’t help wondering why Mallory had brought up Misty instead of just asking why Cordelia had never sat her down and asked to tell her what happened. It begged certain questions. “Mallory, was Misty there? Did you know her?” 

“No. She died before I ever got to Miss Robichaux’s.”

“The Seven Wonders?” Cordelia choked. 

“Yeah. But that part’s the same, I mean.” Cordelia looked to her, confused. “It only splits off after you become the Supreme,” she said delicately, and Cordelia nodded, swallowing. 

“So why Misty? If you never knew her, why bring her back?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking, and Mallory’s lips quirked up. 

“It was for you, Miss Cordelia. You always talked about her so fondly, I…” she trailed off, catching Cordelia’s wide eyes. “I knew she belonged here. You sacrificed so much for the coven...back then...and I...it was the only way I could think to return the favor,” she shrugged, holding back a smile, her eyes sparkling. Cordelia’s chest felt tight and warm, and she had to blink a few times to remember that Mallory was watching her. 

“Mallory, I…”

“I know,” she smiled as they approached the living room. 

The sound of laughter startled Cordelia to her core, jumping as she turned to find Zoe, Queenie, Coco, and Misty sitting on the floor playing Uno around the coffee table. Heart racing and mind reeling, Cordelia leaned against the door frame, trying to steady herself before she had to join in. Queenie was accusing Coco of not calling Uno when she should have, and Zoe was just grinning, watching Coco try to defend herself. 

“Come on, you heard me say Uno. Misty, right, you heard me?” she nearly begged, reaching over the table and grabbing Misty’s hand. 

“Oh, no, don’t drag Swampy into this. She barely knows the rules as it is,” Queenie warned, breaking their hands apart. Misty scoffed, whacking Queenie in the arm. 

“I do to know the rules! I didn’t have to ask you ‘bout that one with the tiny cards an’ arrows on it _once_ this round!” 

“That’s only ‘cause you never drew the card,” Zoe laughed. Cordelia chuckled to herself, biting hard on her lip to keep from grinning. Misty brushed her hair behind her ear, deflating next to Queenie. Cordelia folded her arms over her chest and held herself tight, trying to resist the urge to go over there, gather Misty’s face in her hands, and kiss that pout right off it. 

Instead, she turned to Mallory who, instead of watching the game, was looking at Cordelia. Her eyes sparkled, and there was a knowing smile on her lips. She’d been watching the tender, quiet way that Cordelia was looking at Misty, and the realization made her blush. She suddenly found herself unspeakably deep in Mallory’s debt, and she feared there was nothing in this world Cordelia could give her that would even remotely resemble the thank you she deserved. 

“Hey! Where’d you two come from?” Misty asked, perking up. Cordelia blinked, turning to the group and pushing herself from the door frame. “Come join us. We’ll deal you in,” she smiled, so bright and lovely, and Cordelia took a deep breath. It was completely overwhelming to know that not only had her feelings for Misty transcended timelines, but that someone else could see it too. There was a gentle hand on her arm, and Mallory smiled reassuringly at her. Weakly, Cordelia smiled back before following Mallory to the coffee table. 

Zoe made room next to Misty without being asked, and Cordelia tried not to think about that as she slid off her heels and sat down cross legged on the carpet. Misty grinned at her, squeezing her forearm, thumb swiping at her skin before she pulled away. It sent an involuntary shiver down Cordelia’s spine, still trying to piece together everything she’d been told. 

“Hey,” she breathed. 

“Hi,” Cordelia sighed, taking comfort in the smell of Misty’s perfume, something oaky and deep. 

“You okay? You seem a little off,” Misty whispered, bumping shoulders. Cordelia swallowed at the concern in Misty’s foggy blue eyes, pushing down visions of Myrtle in the study. 

“I’m okay now,” she said, leaning into Misty who bit her lip, laughing a little before turning back to Queenie who was already dealing another round. 

When everyone eventually turned in for the evening, Cordelia found Misty in the kitchen making tea. “Pour me some too?” she asked, walking up behind her, fingers grazing her back. 

“Way ahead of you,” Misty said, turning to reveal two mugs. It was a small gesture, but Cordelia’s heart swelled in her chest anyway. She took a steaming mug from Misty, their fingers brushing. The burn in her palms felt good after an exhausting day, and she took a deep breath as Misty discarded the tea bags. 

“Can we talk? Out on the porch?” she asked, and Misty raised her brow, something panicky flickering behind her eyes. “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry,” she assured, and Misty relaxed, nodding. Soon they were on the rickety old swing together, shoulders brushing, watching the last of the sunset as deep reds finally faded to gray between the trees. Misty’s warmth against her own was lovely, and she reveled in the slow back and forth of the swing, steadied by Misty’s bare foot on the wood planks. “Misty, I’ve been thinking.” 

“About?” she asked, taking a sip of her tea. Cordelia sighed, trying to figure out how to phrase it. 

“Us,” she settled on, her voice higher than usual, nervous as she fiddled with the handle of her mug in her lap. “And the last thing I want is to overwhelm you, trust me. It’s just that the way we’re going I’m not sure it’ll be a secret for very much longer.” Misty seemed to be processing because she didn’t say anything for a moment, her foot pausing it’s movement. “I don’t...need anything to be official between us, Misty, truly. I’m just happy to share a swing with you,” she laughed, her fingers ghosting over Misty’s wrist. “But I would like to know what, if anything, you’re comfortable telling the girls. I’d rather they find out from me or you than start up rumors.” 

Misty nodded, meeting Cordelia’s gentle eyes. “Okay. What d’you think? I mean…” she took a breath, “What would you say to them, if you could?” Misty looked more curious than nervous, her thumb digging into her finger, watching Cordelia think. 

If Cordelia could, she’d tell the entire coven that Misty was hers, and then she’d gather her in her arms and kiss her tenderly in the front hall. It was a frightening prospect, but she was coming to realize that Misty made her brave. A few years ago, the thought of others perceiving her in such an intimate moment would have made her shudder, panic rising in her throat. But Misty made her calm, steadied her in a way she’d never been steadied before. 

“I want ya to be honest,” Misty said then. Cordelia glanced at her, and Misty nodded, encouraging. “Pretend I’m one of the girls.” 

“Pretend?” Cordelia laughed, and Misty nodded, a smile bursting from her lips. “Alright, well, I think I would say, um, you might have noticed that Misty and I are spending more time together lately,” she said slowly, and Misty nodded, turning her body to face Cordelia. She rested her elbow on the back of the swing, cheek against her knuckles as she watched Cordelia with such aching warmth. “And that’s because she and I are together now.”

“Together?” Misty asked with faux innocence, and Cordelia fought the urge to roll her eyes as she flushed. 

“Misty,” she laughed, but Misty just nudged her with her knee. 

“Misty? No, sorry, I’m Abby,” she said with a firm shake of her head, and Cordelia bit her lip. 

“Fine. _Abby_ ,” she breathed, lashes flickering over Misty, the casual way she’d draped herself across the bench. It made something warm blossom in her stomach. “Yes, we’re seeing each other. Misty and I are...dating.” The word felt a little childish but so wonderfully exciting, and Misty never broke her gaze, so piercing into Cordelia. 

Then, all at once, Misty’s lips covered hers, warm and soft, their teas sloshing in their mugs. Cordelia hummed into her mouth, moving with her, until her heart was beating out a bruising rhythm against her ribcage and the world had faded to nothing around her. 

“I like the way that sounds comin’ from your lips,” Misty mumbled against her, and Cordelia stumbled, their noses brushing. Her breath came out hot against Misty’s, and her eyes fluttered open. 

“Dating?” Cordelia tried to clarify, her voice soft and quiet. 

“Delia, I think I’d like to keep doin’ that for as long as you’d let me,” Misty breathed, and a choked sound escaped Cordelia’s throat against her will before she kissed Misty again, hard and fast. 

“ _Ah_...what changed...your mind?” Cordelia asked between kisses. Misty’s free hand came to rest against her neck, and Cordelia wished she could shift closer without spilling her tea, beginning to get impatient. 

“You. The way ya look at me. Like all the stars couldn’t hold a candle. And how patient y’are with me. Not just anyone would spend the time carin’ for me like you do,” Misty said against her, and Cordelia pulled away enough to look her in the eyes. 

“Misty…”

“I’m serious. You make me feel less scared,” she whispered, her thumb sliding under Cordelia’s jaw. “Make me feel safe. I’ve done a lotta running in my life, but I don’t wanna run from you anymore.” Her eyes flickered up to Cordelia’s, warm and quiet. “What’re you thinkin’, sunshine?” 

Cordelia’s heart skipped in her chest at the term of endearment. Misty had never called her anything except Delia before, and sunshine was possibly the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. But she was thinking that it felt far too delicate to question, so she didn’t. She was also thinking that she was the luckiest person alive to be able to call Misty Day hers. Could she say that? “I’m thinking that if you don’t put your tea on the ground so I can kiss you properly, I’m gonna do it for you.” 

Misty laughed, her cheeks bursting as she took Cordelia’s mug from her too. Something was buzzing deep inside her, her breath quickening as she watched Misty’s hands around the ceramic and her hair as it fell across her shoulders when she leaned down. As soon as she sat back up, Cordelia leaned forward and cupped Misty’s jaw, pulling her in. A noise of surprise left her mouth and settled in Cordelia’s, but it was quickly replaced with a quiet sigh when Cordelia’s tongue curled against Misty’s. As the street lamps flickered on and the crickets started to chirp, Misty’s arm slid over Cordelia’s waist and around her back, pulling her closer. Clumsily, she wrapped her arms around Misty’s neck, pressing wet kisses to her cheek. Misty’s other arm was still on the back of the swing, keeping her upright, but the hand on her back was trailing up her spine, firm and warm. 

“I like this,” Misty sighed, Cordelia draped against her now. She sat with one of her legs folded under her against the back of the swing and the other over Misty’s knee. Cordelia’s hand was tangled in Misty’s hair, her chin resting on her shoulder, watching the trees sway in the night breeze through strands of her curls. She smelled like wildflowers and something earthy, something familiar. Cordelia could feel Misty breathing under her, slow and steady, her fingertips trailing up and down Cordelia’s back. 

And I _love_ you. 

The thought came easy, slipped carelessly through her mind, and left her breathless. Of course she did. How could she not. It scared her to love someone this early, this thoughtlessly, because Cordelia had been taught that love was reckless and foolish when it wasn’t strategic. But instead of running from it, she held Misty tighter and kissed her neck. This was the most unhurried she’d ever felt in her life, and as Misty’s heart beat against her throat, Cordelia knew she could sit with this, grounded and patient and _loving_ , until the time was right. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey yourself,” Misty replied, voice low in Cordelia’s ear. It made her shiver. 

“My leg’s falling asleep,” Cordelia mumbled, reluctantly pulling back. The cold air hit her like a truck, and goosebumps prickled at her arms. She didn’t realize just how warm Misty ran. Her eyes flickered up to Cordelia’s, curious and attentive to the way she stretched her back. “Are you not cold?” 

“I don’t get cold real easy,” Misty offered with a shrug. Cordelia hummed, pressing her palm to Misty’s chest between her collarbones. She was practically radiating heat. Misty tensed against her, and Cordelia looked up to find Misty’s eyes had never broken from hers. Gently, she took Misty’s hand and placed it in the same spot on her own body. Her hand was warm on Cordelia’s chilled skin, and she let out a slow breath. 

“You’re like a furnace,” Cordelia chuckled, her thumb tapping Misty’s chest. She could see Misty swallow and paused. “Is this okay?” 

“It’s...nice,” she nodded, and Cordelia watched her closely. Misty’s eyes trickled down her throat to her hand as it slid lower between Cordelia’s breasts. Cordelia’s breath caught in her throat, the world slowing, as Misty’s fingers reached her stomach. Her eyes were darker underneath flickering lashes, and Cordelia brought her fingers up to lift Misty’s chin. 

“Would you like to go inside?” Cordelia breathed, curious and gentle. Misty’s palm firm against her stomach was making heat pool between her legs, and she’d be more than happy to drag Misty upstairs if that’s what she wanted. Misty’s brow flickered, something tightening in her face. 

“I don’t think so. Well, I mean, _yes_ , but not like that,” she stumbled, flushing, as her hand settled back in her own lap. “I’m sorry,” she grimaced, and Cordelia grabbed her chin. 

“Hey, shh. That’s perfectly okay,” she said, and she did mean it. She didn’t need to have sex with Misty to feel fulfilled in this relationship. It was fun and it felt good and Misty surprised her by how good she was with her hands, but it wasn’t a necessity for Cordelia. Still, she knew that Misty was acclimating to the idea, and she wanted to leave the door open for her when or if ever she felt like stepping through. 

When Friday rolled around again, Misty dragged Cordelia out of her office at six sharp, aggressively shutting down Cordelia’s half-hearted protests. She brought her to the kitchen, their hands clasped tight, and presented her with a counter full of ingredients. 

“Ta-da!” Misty exclaimed, grinning. Cordelia raised her brow, a laugh catching in her throat as she shook her head at Misty. “We’re gonna cook together! I can’t have my Supreme not takin’ care of herself like she _knows_ she should.” Her tone was teasing, but there was genuine concern hiding underneath a warning, and Cordelia bit the inside of her cheek. 

“You remembered that?” she groaned, embarrassed, as Misty pulled her forward again. It figured that when Misty heard “sometimes I forget to eat” she knew to drop the sometimes and replace it with “Fridays.” 

“You’re impossible. Just let me feed ya,” she muttered, distracted by the sheer amount of food on the countertop. 

“Hold on, _my_ Supreme?” Cordelia chuckled, and Misty’s ears tinged red. 

“ _Our_ Supreme. Ya know, for the coven’s sake,” she offered, shoving a box of pasta into Cordelia’s arms. 

“You’re making me dinner for the sake of the coven?” she teased, meandering to the stove where there was a room temperature pot of water waiting. 

“Shut up and put the pasta on, would ya?” Misty grumbled, and Cordelia grinned, biting at her lip and turning on the burner. As she was sprinkling salt in the water, Misty chopped red peppers behind her. Cordelia turned, leaning against the counter and watching the muscles in Misty’s arm flex as the knife came down on the cutting board over and over. It was disarmingly attractive in a mildly embarrassing way, heat flushing through her. She pushed herself off the counter and came up behind Misty, trailing her hand down her arm until it was over Misty’s gripping the knife. She faltered as Cordelia kissed her cheek. 

“You want wine?” she breathed against her skin. She saw Misty swallow and nod, and Cordelia squeezed the back of Misty’s neck before walking to the wine rack. By the time they got the sauce on the stove, they were halfway through a bottle. Misty looked warm, her cheeks flushed as she stirred. Cordelia checked the pasta next to her, their elbows grazing. Impulsively, she grabbed a noodle and rested it between her lips. She tapped Misty, humming, as she held out the other end to her. Misty’s smile was slow as she realized, but then she just laughed, shifting her weight and taking the other end between her fingers.

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, but she stuck the noodle between her teeth anyway. As they bit their way closer, Misty’s eyes locked onto hers, all that smoky makeup making her look absolutely divine. When their lips met, the two of them giggled, and Misty pressed in, her mouth softening against Cordelia. She hummed, kissing her back, light and easy, until Misty sighed and leaned closer, her kisses getting deeper. Cordelia pulled back. 

“Mm mm,” she muttered, kissing Misty again. “Focus on your sauce,” she smiled through another kiss.

“You started it,” Misty laughed, nipping at Cordelia’s lip. The feeling made her weak, just enough to let her eyes flutter closed, and Misty took the opportunity to hop up on the counter next to the stove. “Pasta’s still a little al dente for my taste,” she offered easily, her legs swaying against the cabinets, and Cordelia collected herself enough to laugh, biting her lip and folding her arms over her chest. 

“You’re gonna scuff the cabinets,” she muttered, barely managing to be even slightly intimidating. Instead, she took a step toward Misty and knelt down to untie her boots, wearing thin after what Cordelia was sure were years of use. 

“Delia,” Misty breathed, uncertain, and Cordelia rested a hand on her calf and looked up at her. When she didn’t say anything more, Cordelia continued untying, her gaze locked on Misty’s. There was something swimming in her eyes, curious and enamoured and frozen as Cordelia held the back of her leg and pulled off a boot. She let it clatter to the floor and started on the second one, moving slower so her fingers didn’t shake. It was incredibly disarming to see Misty looking at her like that, and her ears were hot just thinking about it.

“Jesus fucking Christ, get a room already.” The voice was loud and abrasive, and of course it was Madison from across the kitchen. Cordelia stood up as Queenie and Zoe trailed in next to her, trying to contain her embarrassment into a tight box and shove it down. Misty blushed deeply and toed off her other boot, letting it fall next to the first. 

“Girl, would you shut up,” Queenie hissed, shoving her. Madison just rolled her eyes, leaning against the wall. 

“We were just wondering who was cooking. It smells great,” Zoe offered, stepping forward.

“Misty’s...we’re, um, making pasta,” Cordelia said, glancing back at her in a way that was supposed to be reassuring. She couldn’t deny that them walking in at that exact moment wasn’t ideal. It might have been less embarrassing had they just caught them making out. There was something crushingly intimate about taking off Misty’s boots that Cordelia couldn’t get out of her mind. 

“It’s not done yet,” Misty offered, raising a shoulder. “Delia, would you pour me another?” Wordlessly, she turned around and took the glass from her, fingers brushing, and walked to the island for the bottle. 

“What are you girls up to tonight?” Cordelia asked, trying to shake off Madison’s rudeness, not that it was anything new. 

“Going out for dinner and then, you know, who knows,” Queenie chuckled, and Zoe smiled back the soft, nervous way she did. Cordelia just turned back to Misty and handed her the glass, sliding her hand over Misty’s knee before leaning against the counter next to her. 

“Sorry, can I just say I’m glad you guys are, like, actually together now,” Zoe said, her eyes sparkling, and Misty sputtered into her wine. 

“ _Finally_ ,” Madison grumbled, and Cordelia opened and closed her mouth, her brow tightening. 

“You really are cute together,” Queenie encouraged, and Cordelia’s cheeks flushed pink. 

“How did you…” 

“Please,” Madison laughed, stepping forward. “As soon as Swampy stopped calling you _Miss Cordelia_ it was pretty obvious what was going on.” 

“Yeah, you kinda...stare at each other when one of you isn’t looking,” Zoe giggled. 

“It’s _disgusting_ ,” Madison added. 

“It’s _sweet_ ,” Queenie corrected and then glared at Madison again. 

“Whatever. As long as I don’t have to walk in on you fucking on the counters, I don’t care.” 

“We weren’t...you know what, nevermind,” Cordelia sighed, pressing fingers to her temple. “I appreciate the support.” She’d learned a long time ago that she had to dig to find the warmth behind Madison’s cold exterior, and, without fail, she always could. When she turned to Misty, worried she might be overwhelmed, she just found her grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, that’s a relief,” she chuckled, and Cordelia’s eyes went wide. 

“It is?” she asked delicately, and Misty nodded, almost surprised by how good it felt. “I’m so glad,” Cordelia whispered, swiping her thumb across the side of Misty’s thigh. Madison gagged, Misty glared at her, and warmth spread through Cordelia all the way down to the tips of her toes. 

After that the conversation got easier, lighter, until Misty was laughing with Queenie over something Cordelia couldn’t make out, too focused on the way Misty was smiling. She’d hopped down from the counter and was back next to her at the stove, stirring and talking, her eyes bright. The wine colored her cheeks, and sweat glistened on her skin from the heat of the stove. Cordelia plucked a noodle from the pot with a fork just as Misty nudged her. 

“Taste this. I think it needs somethin’,” she requested, the twang in her voice getting sharper the lower she spoke. She held up a spoon to Cordelia’s lips, her other hand hovering under to catch any spill, and Cordelia could only blink dumbly and open her mouth. Misty watched her lips close around the spoon and gently drew it back, Cordelia’s heart pounding in her ears. She licked her lips and hummed, and Misty hovered close. 

“Red pepper flakes,” she answered, and then Misty had turned away, and Cordelia felt like she was floating. By the time she’d eaten the noodle, nodded to herself, and turned the heat off on the pasta, Misty had turned back to her with another spoonful. She tasted it, again, and watched Misty’s tongue poke out between her lips as she waited for Cordelia’s reaction. “Good. That’s better, yeah.”

“Thought so too. You’re a genius,” Misty said, turning the heat off on the sauce. Cordelia flushed and took a sip of her wine before grabbing the pot and straining the pasta in the sink. 

“Oh, Delia, you’re so smart. You’re so pretty,” Madison mocked into her phone, and Cordelia chuckled in spite of herself, unable to wipe the stupid grin from her lips. This was nice. It was natural. It was domestic. The thought made her chest tighten, and she had to stop for a moment against the sink. 

“Finally, somethin’ we can agree on,” Misty said to Madison as she brushed past Cordelia to get plates and silverware, her hand warm on Cordelia’s back. She exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and poured the pasta into a large bowl before taking it to the table. 

“Alright, well, we’ll leave y’all to your romantic little dinner,” Queenie said with a laugh, motioning to the table as Misty set the plates.

“Have fun,” Zoe grinned, trailing out behind Queenie.

“Just…” Madison sighed, looking at them as if she were in pain, “don’t fuck this up.” And then she was out the door, leaving Cordelia’s eyebrows stuck in her hairline.

“That was…” 

“Somethin’,” Misty finished, grabbing Cordelia’s wine from the counter and handing it to her. She took it slowly, letting her fingers linger, and looked up at Misty, taller than her even in socks. 

“Are you sure you’re…”

“Delia, I can’t tell ya how good that felt,” Misty breathed out a laugh, and Cordelia blinked, a smile flickering at her lips. “I think I like that other people know you’re mine.” She seemed to be coming to the realization as she said it, and Cordelia admired the way Misty was learning to keep her heart open more than she could put into words. 

“I think I like that too,” she said hoarsely. She was Misty’s, and Misty was _hers_.

After dinner and some halfhearted cleaning, they decided to open another bottle of wine and migrate to the greenhouse. The popping of the cork echoed against the brick walls, and as she poured them both generous glasses, Misty turned on the record player in the back. The needle scratched and settled down, and then Fleetwood Mac came barreling through the speakers. Cordelia shook her head and smiled to herself as Misty slipped off her shawl and set it on the table next to her. She took a drink of her wine and then pulled Cordelia away, bouncing on her toes and mouthing the words to Dreams.

They danced and laughed, and Misty twirled in her socks with her arms above her head. Cordelia was nervous, even when it was just them, because she didn’t want to embarrass herself. Misty assured her that it wasn’t possible and then held her close and pulled them breathlessly around the room between the plants. When Rhiannon came on, Misty sang quietly into her ear, and Cordelia felt like putty in her arms, mesmerized by the gravel in her voice. 

Once the wine had settled heavy in their limbs and the songs got quieter, they held each other and swayed. It was a warm sort of tipsy that turned everything hazy and made Cordelia feel like she was floating. Misty was humming along to Leather and Lace, and Cordelia closed her eyes against Misty’s shoulder, pressing her lips to the skin there. 

“Thanks for cookin’ with me,” Misty breathed, and Cordelia smiled.

“It was nice...standing next to you at the stove. It felt good.” Misty hummed in agreement, and Cordelia couldn’t help but pull back, her hand cupping the nape of Misty’s neck. She kissed her then, tasting the sweetness of the wine on Misty’s lips, soft as velvet against her. She parted Cordelia’s lips with her own, slow and easy until Cordelia pressed in. Misty moved with her until Cordelia’s head was spinning and her breathing hitched against Misty’s mouth. “Misty,” she sighed as her hands wandered to Cordelia’s sides, mouth sliding to her neck and kissing soft skin. She nipped and sucked just below Cordelia’s ear in a way she’d learned made her gasp, and she did, her hand tightening on Misty’s neck. “ _Oh_.” 

At the sound, Misty’s breathing quickened, and she slid her lips back to Cordelia’s, walking her back until she bumped into the table. Misty pressed into her, her hands possessive and pleasantly decisive as she held Cordelia’s back and cupped her cheek with the other. It overwhelmed her enough to forget that they’d finished a bottle and a half of wine, and she kissed Misty’s cheek and down her jaw to her throat. Misty leaned into her, her head falling to Cordelia’s shoulder and exhaling choppy breaths there as Cordelia clumsily, but happily, marked her neck. Knowing Misty liked that sent a wet heat pooling between Cordelia’s legs, and when Misty’s thigh slid between hers and pressed in she moaned faintly against her skin, teeth scraping. “God, Delia,” she mumbled, pulling her up to kiss her, hard and fast as her fingers dug into Cordelia’s hips.

It surprised Cordelia in an exciting sort of way how purposeful and confident Misty was when she’d been drinking because it meant she had the potential to be exactly this intoxicating when she was sober too. Not that Misty was any less disarmingly attractive every moment of every day, but Cordelia liked rough hands more than she was willing to admit to Misty right now. “Oh, _Misty_ ,” she gasped, sliding her hand to her collarbone. “Wait,” she breathed, however reluctantly, and Misty paused against her, pulling back. 

“You okay?” she asked, brow furrowed, and Cordelia bit her lip at the gentle concern, the flush in her cheeks from the wine, the way her eyes unfocused. 

“I’m great,” Cordelia couldn’t help but giggle, and Misty smiled. “But I think we should...cool down. I’m not... _you’re_ not...sober,” she offered, and the realization came to Misty as reluctantly as it had to Cordelia, but she nodded, pecking her on the lips before they untangled themselves from one another. Cordelia flushed at the throbbing between her legs when Misty pulled back, trying to collect herself. Feeling cold all of a sudden, Cordelia swallowed and brushed her hair back, turning to grab her wine and take a sip. It tasted like Misty’s lips. 

She watched Misty sit down and wrap her shawl back around her shoulders, and Cordelia knew she must have been feeling the same sort of emptiness. With someone else, Cordelia wouldn’t have been as hesitant about continuing. Neither of them were that tipsy, so she wouldn’t normally worry about consent, but with Misty it was different. She had trouble with vulnerability and intimacy, had trouble setting boundaries, and the last thing Cordelia wanted to do was push them because she knew Misty was feeling a little looser. This had to be on Misty’s terms, clear headed and open, and Cordelia wouldn’t accept anything less. 

“Pour me some?” Cordelia asked when she set her glass down. Misty had just finished topping off her own, and she poured the last of the bottle into Cordelia’s glass, letting it drip for a moment before setting it back down. When their eyes met, the tension of the last few minutes was still swimming between them, and seeing Misty’s kiss swollen lips did absolutely nothing to help the throbbing between Cordelia’s legs. So she swallowed and shifted in her seat, glancing down. 

“The wine was a good choice,” Misty said finally. “Kinda tart. Tastes like blackberries.”

“It’s one of my favorites, actually,” Cordelia said, fiddling with the stem of her glass. “I got it in Napa a few years ago. I don’t think they make it anymore.” 

“Cordelia,” Misty scolded, and she looked up, surprised. “Shouldn’ta wasted it on me. It’s special.” 

“You’re special,” Cordelia countered with a little laugh, as if the connection should have been obvious. “Besides, it was well worth it to get to taste it on your mouth.” She watched Misty flush, and she bit her lip, humming quietly. “I love making you do that.”

“I know,” Misty grumbled, and Cordelia just grinned as she took a long drink of her wine. They were silent for a few minutes, letting Stevie’s voice wash over them. Landslide was playing, and Cordelia took a few steadying breaths as she watched Misty feel the music. She was happy, Cordelia could tell, because her magic was swirling from her in warm, gentle waves.

“You’re so beautiful, Misty,” Cordelia breathed, the ache in her chest deepening when Misty’s eyes fluttered away from her. As the song came to an end, she took a drink of her wine, and Cordelia mirrored her. 

“I gotta say, I can’t stop thinking about you takin’ off my shoes like that,” Misty muttered, her voice soft as she met Cordelia’s eyes shyly. Cordelia had been playing it over in her head an embarrassing amount of times since dinner, and she’d come to the startling conclusion that it had been an act of devotion. “Made my heart all fluttery,” Misty laughed. 

“It did, didn’t it,” Cordelia smiled. She hadn’t thought about it in the moment. No one ever does. But as she looked at Misty then, she knew she was worthy of that and so much more. She was effortlessly radiant with a keen eye and sharp wit, so wonderfully, innocently ethereal, and Cordelia _loved_ her. 

“Why’d you do it?” 

_Because I love you._

“It felt right,” Cordelia answered, and Misty hummed, sensing something deeper there but ultimately inexplicable and accepted it. 

“I’m trying to focus on doin’ that too. What feels right,” Misty nodded, and Cordelia shifted in her seat, resting her chin in her palm. “It’s hard.” 

“I know,” Cordelia sighed. She’d lived most of her life thinking that the things she enjoyed were wrong or just silly distractions, and it had taken her many years to unlearn that. Even now, she struggled to listen to herself, to trust herself. She could understand how Misty might struggle with those same feelings. 

“But tellin’ the others about us was right. Holdin’ you on that porch swing felt... _right_ ,” she said firmly, and Cordelia smiled, a little dreamy in spite of herself. It was the wine. “And kissin’ you is _always_ right. But I’m scared.” 

“What are you scared of?” Cordelia asked, her smile fading. Misty took a sip of her wine. 

“I dunno, exactly. I think I’m scared of getting hurt. I’ve always gotten hurt. _Been_ hurt. And I trust you, Delia, I do, when you say you’re not goin’ anywhere. I just...I think I need to keep hearin’ it ‘til it sinks all the way down to my bones,” she said sheepishly, and Cordelia’s heart clenched as she took Misty’s hands in her own. 

“I am not going anywhere. And I would never hurt you, Misty. _Ever_.” 

“Thank you,” she whispered, and Cordelia brushed Misty’s hair from her face. 

“Anytime,” she smiled softly, pulling away. “What else are you scared of? Let me help.” Misty avoided Cordelia’s gaze for a moment, gathering herself. 

“I’m scared of lettin’ you touch me,” she said, eyes flickering to Cordelia’s. “And I want you to, Delia, Christ, I really do,” she gushed, and Cordelia’s chest tightened in surprise as an embarrassing amount of warmth settled in her belly. “I wanna feel as good as you do when I’m touchin’ you. I’ve never felt that way before.”

That surprised Cordelia too in a desperate, aching sort of way that she had to push down before she could speak. “Misty, do you masturbate?” Misty blushed seven different shades of red, then, and Cordelia swallowed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...you don’t have to answer that.” 

“ _No_ , it’s, um...I do. I mean, I _have_. It just doesn’t...I haven’t really cum from it.” If it was even possible, Misty flushed deeper then. “Not the way you do, anyway,” she mumbled, and a bit of color rushed to Cordelia’s cheeks too. 

“None of your previous partners...made you feel like that?” Cordelia ventured, and Misty scoffed. 

“I mean, I’ve _cum_. But none of them knew what the hell they were doin’. Not that I did. Or _do_. It just kinda... _hurt_ real bad,” she offered with a shrug, and Cordelia’s heart sank to her stomach. 

“ _Misty…_ ” she breathed out, frowning, and Misty blinked, surprised, as her shoulders tensed. 

“I’m sorry. That was…”

“Wait, Misty, just…” Cordelia reached over and grabbed her hand, running her thumb along the back of it softly. “Wait.” She took a breath and squeezed. Parts of Misty’s past were starting to come together in Cordelia’s mind, and she forced down the anger swelling in her stomach. “Did you want to have sex with them?” The question made her sick to even have to ask, but she needed to know. 

“I don’t... _know_. I think I just thought I was supposed to. I mean, I didn’t really stop to wonder about it until later. After they burned me,” she clarified, and Cordelia winced, squeezing Misty’s hand tighter. “It’s not like I couldn’t say no. I did, and they listened. Some of ‘em were a little stubborn,” Misty chuckled, but Cordelia didn’t. In fact, her stomach was churning. “I guess, I didn’t know it was supposed to feel so good. For girls. Until, well, _you_ , Delia.” 

Cordelia thought about how they’d stumbled in Misty’s room, how she’d pushed Misty on the bed and straddled her the first and only time they’d had sex. She thought about the way her chest got so blotchy, how she cried into Cordelia’s shoulder, curled in on herself. It had been frightening then, but now it made her want to cry. 

“Misty, god, I…” she didn’t even know what to say. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Cordelia, you’re tearin’ up, what’s wrong? Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anythin’,” Misty breathed, and Cordelia quickly wiped her eyes and gathered herself. The last thing she wanted was Misty having to comfort her right now. 

“I’m sorry it hurt,” she choked. “It shouldn’t. Not _ever_ , okay?” 

“Okay,” Misty said, breathless and wide eyed.

Cordelia had gathered, from Misty’s brief and hurried explanations over the past few weeks, that she wasn’t actually attracted to men but had thought that she was or that she should be for most of her adolescence. So she’d dated boys, slept with them, because she felt like she was supposed to. What she hadn’t realized, though maybe should have, is that there was an element of coercion and possibly aggression to the experiences Misty had had. 

“Sex isn’t…” she sighed, worrying at her lip. “You are not someone to just let others have sex with. It has to be mutual. You have to want it just as much as the other person. And _yes_ is the only thing that means yes. Maybe isn’t a yes. I guess or I’m not sure are not yeses. Saying yes only after someone asks five times isn’t really a yes. Consent is enthusiastic, or it’s a no. Okay, Misty?” 

“Yeah, I...okay,” Misty nodded, her voice hoarse. That was as clear and direct as Cordelia could bring herself to be about Misty’s past, and then tears were welling in both of their eyes. She was sure that some part of Misty already knew this. But to be confronted with the fact head on, for it to be said out loud, was entirely different. 

“Misty…” Cordelia choked, unable to look at her for a moment, her stomach doing flips. “When we had sex...are you _sure_ it was…” 

“Yes,” she said decisively. “I promise, Cordelia. I’m okay,” she breathed, leaning forward to try and find Cordelia’s eyes. “I would have stopped. I mean, I did a few times,” she said, a smile flickering at her lips. “I’m okay.” Cordelia nodded, wiping away a few stray tears with her free hand. Misty let hers fall, squeezing Cordelia’s hand tightly as she swallowed. “You know, I knew it didn’t feel right. Inside, I mean. But I didn’t know how to deal with it. I thought I was just bein’ stupid.” 

“You’re not. You could never be,” Cordelia rushed, her throat tight. “Oh, Misty, I wish I knew how to help.” 

“You’re already doin’ it,” Misty laughed. She sniffled and shook her head. “You make me feel good about myself when I can’t stand to be in my own head. You’re patient and kind and understanding. Much more than I deserve. You make me feel like I can actually be everything you already think I am.” Cordelia swallowed, reaching out and cupping Misty’s cheek in her palm. She leaned into the touch, and a quiet sob finally wrenched it’s way up Cordelia’s throat. 

“Would you let me hold you?” she choked, her voice high and wavering, and Misty just pulled her up, letting Cordelia wrap her in her arms, tight and close and warm. She knew what it was like to feel uncertain or uncomfortable or even a little gross about a sexual encounter afterward, but she didn’t know what it felt like to feel the way Misty did, to feel trapped but to have convinced herself otherwise, to feel confused, and guilty, and hurt, and used, and to only be able to process it so much later. She cradled the back of Misty’s head and buried her face in soft curls, breath hitching. Misty sniffled, nuzzling into her neck and squeezing her tight like she was about to disappear. “ _Misty…_ ” Cordelia sighed, hoping this was grounding her as much as it was Cordelia. “You deserve to feel safe and happy and loved. I’m so sorry others haven’t given that to you.” She could feel Misty trembling against her, and something cracked in her chest, fresh tears gathering in her vision. “Oh, Misty, I love you so much,” she breathed, closing her eyes. “I love you _so_ much.” 

Misty bunched Cordelia’s blouse in her fist, burying her face in the crook of her neck, wet with tears, and Cordelia felt lighter, somehow. She’d said it. In an unusual moment, maybe, but the right one. And Cordelia, like Misty, was trying to do more things that felt right to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case this chapter didn’t make it clear enough, Cordelia is 100% the bigger simp in this relationship. Would love to hear your thoughts in the comments :)


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with another chapter! Sorry for the wait again. I was moving out of my apartment. Also dropping “Northern Lights” by Bowerbirds here for your consideration. 
> 
> WARNINGS!! There’s one brief moment about scarring from sexual trauma near the end.

The night ended on careful notes, with Cordelia gently wiping away tears from Misty’s flushed cheeks and red rimmed eyes. They sat quietly for a long time, the silence heavy and the empty bottle of wine cold between them. Cordelia had tried to hold her hand, but Misty pulled it away, shaking her head. She knew it wasn’t personal, but she felt the faint sting of rejection anyway, watching as Misty picked anxiously at her fingers. Though Cordelia didn’t expect or need her to return her hushed confession of love, breathed so achingly into Misty’s ear, her silence was starting to make Cordelia’s mind twist in on itself. And so for a fleeting, desperate moment, she considered peering into Misty’s jumbled thoughts. She was eager to soothe, eager to _know_ , but that was a line she wouldn’t allow herself to cross, not again. 

“Talk to me, Misty,” Cordelia sighed, leaning closer. “What’re you thinking?” 

“Honestly, I don’t wanna be thinkin’ much of anything right now,” Misty forced a laugh, and Cordelia frowned. “I guess I didn’t know it was so bad ‘til I knew what good felt like. An’ when you were sayin’ how no can look a whole buncha different ways…” she swallowed and shook her head. “I needed to hear it. I just...don’t know what to do with it. My head’s hurtin’,” she chuckled, but it was pained. “I just wanna go to bed.” 

“Okay,” Cordelia breathed. “Do you want some company?” Misty swallowed and shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes again. 

“No, thank you, Delia,” she choked and wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself. “Really, thank you.” 

Cordelia took a deep breath and resisted the urge to reach out and run her fingers through Misty’s hair. Instead, she just pressed her lips together. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Misty nodded and wiped her nose across the back of her hand as Cordelia stood up, the stool creaking under her in the silence of the greenhouse. “Goodnight, Misty.” 

“Night,” she said back, and it took everything Cordelia had to turn away from her, sitting there in so much pain, and walk out the door. The two of them hadn’t shared a bed in months, not since Misty got back from hell, but Cordelia’s felt particularly cold that night anyway. 

Misty was quiet on Saturday. Thoughtful and withdrawn, she spent most of the day reading in the greenhouse. Though Cordelia promised herself she’d give Misty her space, she did check in on her once around dinner to bring her some of their leftover pasta. She found her sitting on a windowsill, her head resting against the glass as she watched the sunset. The warm, orange light cast deep shadows on her face that made her look hollow, and Cordelia worried, like she often did, about coddling Misty. The last thing she wanted was to make her feel like she needed to be taken care of.

“Misty,” Cordelia breathed, and she startled, turning. “Brought you dinner.” Misty’s face softened, and she patted a spot on the other end of the ledge. Cordelia sat, handing the pasta to her. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled, grabbing a forkful. Cordelia watched her eat, hands tight in her lap, until Misty gave her a strange look. “You’re lookin’ at me like I’m gonna shatter.” 

“I’m sorry,” Cordelia laughed, looking down. Misty tapped her knee, and Cordelia looked up to find her holding out a forkful of pasta for her. 

“Look like you haven’t eaten anythin’ today,” she offered, and instead of embarrassing herself with an answer, Cordelia just took it. “Ya gotta take care of yourself, Cordelia. I’m serious.” This was the second time Misty had scolded her for not eating when she should, so Cordelia kept quiet and swallowed the pasta. 

“You’re deflecting.” 

“I’m just makin’ conversation. I think you’re deflecting,” Misty countered as she twirled more pasta around her fork. “I know it’s kinda your thing, but ya don’t have to fix everything all the time. Sometimes the best healin’ comes from sittin’ quiet and watchin’ a pretty sunset. Lucky I get to watch it with a pretty girl, too.” 

Cordelia, in all her embarrassed modesty, shrunk under Misty’s affection, the casual way she could make her heart flutter. “I can’t stand to see you hurting,” she finally admitted, and she knew Misty could see the restlessness in her eyes. 

“I’m startin’ to realize that I can’t move forward ‘til I’m able to feel all the hurt for what it is,” Misty offered, her words deliberate and slow as she met Cordelia’s eyes. Though they held the pain Cordelia could barely stand to look at, they were steady and firm. Then she blinked, her gaze flickering away as her next words bubbled from her throat. “An’ it’s takin’ me awhile, but I’m learnin’ to be okay with you seein’ all the ugly parts of me.” 

“You don’t have a single one,” Cordelia told her earnestly. 

“I just wish you’d do the same,” Misty finished, looking up, and the sincerity in her eyes surprised Cordelia. “I wish you’d tell me stuff like what scares you at night when you’re layin’ in bed. Or what it was like growin’ up with Fiona.” Cordelia felt something hot shoot through her, so she swallowed and blinked, turning to watch the sunset instead of Misty. “The parts you don’t like people seein’ ‘cause you’re afraid it’ll make you look weak,” Misty ventured, and Cordelia’s eyes darted back to hers in alarm. “I’m not askin’ you to spill your guts to me or anything,” she half laughed, the fading sunlight filtering through her curls. “I just don’t want you to hide it. You’re real talented at deflecting, you know that?” 

Cordelia scoffed, but it softened to a sigh as she shook her head. “Years of practice.” 

“I know,” Misty breathed, and Cordelia ached at the tenderness in her voice. Somehow she’d forgotten that the trauma that had forced Cordelia to be so highly perceptive was a two way street, that Misty also knew how to read people. Still, it often surprised her to be noticed, to be perceived, and to still be cared for in the wake of that stinging embarrassment. “You’re no burden, not to me. An’ you don’t have to hide parts of yourself away. I ain’t goin’ anywhere,” Misty said, her voice soft as velvet, something encouraging trickling through. It was a sentiment Misty was echoing back to Cordelia from when she had offered her the same quiet respite. 

After she forced down the immediate urge to pull away and deny that she was hiding anything, Cordelia realized that she might actually be worse at opening up than Misty. She’d given so much to her without needing or wanting anything in return, but when Misty offered nothing more than a kind ear and a soft shoulder, Cordelia felt even more lost and undeserving. 

“I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that I’m grateful for ya, Delia,” Misty breathed. She leaned forward to hold Cordelia’s hand, her thumb tapping out a soothing rhythm. “You helped me remember that I deserve to be cared for and treated right. I wanna give that gift to you too. Not ‘cause I wanna repay you but ‘cause it feels right. Cordelia, _you’re_ right. I know it deep down. You feel so right.” 

The admission had a quiet strength to it, a steadiness, that knocked the breath from Cordelia’s lungs. The last of the sunset glowed in Misty’s blue eyes the way the light shines through stained glass, with a kind of reverence too delicate to put into words. Almost hesitant, Cordelia squeezed Misty’s hand, feeling her magic radiating out around them until it tingled under her skin. 

It said _for you. For You. Anything._

On Sunday, Cordelia spent the afternoon weeding the garden. It was insufferably hot and muggy, but the sound of birds and a gentle breeze through the trees was enough to keep her from throwing in the towel. She liked the fresh air, the smell of flowers, even the smell of wet Earth on her skin every once and awhile. 

“Need some help?” Misty asked from behind, and Cordelia turned, hunched over a flower bed, and held her dirt stained hand up to block the sun. 

“Love some,” she gasped, sitting back on her heels as Misty crouched down next to her. She was donning a pair of faded overalls, barefoot as usual, and holding out a bottle of water for Cordelia who took it gratefully. Cordelia had thrown her hair in a ponytail as soon as she got too sticky to stop strands from plastering themselves across her cheeks, and Misty was watching her curiously as she took a long drink of water. 

“Hotter than shit out here,” she mused, squinting in the sun as Cordelia took a cooling breath, sweat trickling down the back of her neck and pooling at the base of her spine. 

“Hotter than you, even,” Cordelia offered, unable to resist. Misty paused for a moment, surprised, and then a smile blossomed on her rosy cheeks, crinkling her nose as she shook her head. It was an adorable reaction, and Cordelia found she enjoyed the flattered acceptance more than she did making her blush quite so often. Something was different now, Cordelia could feel it. Something comfortable and settled and easy between them. She liked it. 

They sat in silence for a while, digging up weeds and tossing them in the wicker basket behind them. The sun beat down on Cordelia’s back, and her wrist was aching from holding herself up on it for so long, but Misty showed no signs of slowing. She was quick and precise with the spade, digging up crabgrass and plantain and dandelions without much thought, filling up the basket in half the time it had taken Cordelia. Out of breath in the humidity, she sat back, wiping her hands on her dirt infused pants and watching Misty’s skin shine with sweat. As soon as she’d loosened the plantain with the spade, she drove stained fingers into damp soil and tightened her grip around the root, pulling up in one swift motion. Cordelia tried, she really did, not to think about how the flex in Misty’s hand, the tightening of her forearm, would look if her fingers were buried inside Cordelia instead. A flash of warmth spread through her and pooled low in her belly. As Misty turned to toss the weed into the basket, she caught Cordelia’s eye and smiled, leaning back. 

Sweat was beading on her skin, across her body, and her eyeliner was running as she wiped the back of her hand across her upper lip. Cordelia’s eyes wandered to the hollow of her throat, sweat pooling there too, shining in the sunlight. How she could stand to have her hair down around her neck, Cordelia didn’t know. Misty pressed her palms into the tops of her thighs, panting in the sun. 

“Hand me the water, would ya?” she breathed, holding out her hand, and Cordelia did, probably quicker than she should have. And she watched, shamelessly, as Misty’s throat bobbed when she swallowed. An incessant throbbing started up between Cordelia’s legs when she imagined pinning Misty to the grass and dragging her tongue up her throat, to pull a moan from those sunburnt lips. “Y’alright, sunshine?” 

Cordelia swallowed, blinking away sweat from her eyes as she focused back on Misty’s hesitant curiosity. She hummed something noncommittal back, throat dry as Misty poured water into her cupped hand and splashed it across her flushed face, trickling down her neck. Now that just wasn’t fair. 

“Oh, I see,” Misty grinned suddenly. “You want me to pour some down my shirt too?” 

Cordelia flushed, unable to gather the strength for a coherent response as Misty’s name stumbled from her lips. Caught in the image she’d created for her, Cordelia’s fingers twitched, tightening around nothing as she kept herself from filling them with the soft skin of Misty’s waist as she tugged her closer or maybe the backs of her thighs as she pushed them apart. On her hands and knees now, Misty crawled toward her, and Cordelia shivered when her breath hit her cheek. 

“I’d do it,” Misty nearly whispered. “If you asked.” Cordelia’s eyes shot to hers, their faces inches apart. The muscles in her belly twitched at the way Misty was looking at her, amused and willing and _hungry_. 

“I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable...”

“T’know you’re lookin’ at me like you wanna fuck me?” Misty finished, and Cordelia’s breath stuttered, heat tightening at her chest and flooding up to her cheeks. 

“Yeah.” It came out as a whisper, and Misty bit her lip. 

“Never used to be. But I think, when it’s you, I don’t mind it so much. I kinda like that I can get ya all hot and bothered,” she mused, her voice gravelly and low, and Cordelia nearly choked, wavering closer. She wanted to taste the salty sweat on Misty’s sun kissed lips more than she could process at the moment, her breath hitching against Misty’s. Though she didn’t realize her eyes had fluttered closed until she opened them to find Misty watching her with a dreamy smile. And that surprised Cordelia because, if anything, she’d expected a smirk. “Come on, we’re almost done, and you’ve got some specially made lemonade waitin’ for ya in the fridge.” The tight warmth in Cordelia’s chest dissolved to something gentler, and Misty hopped back to her place, tossing a handful of soil at her legs. “Slow poke.” 

“I’m _going_ ,” she chuckled, picking up her own spade. Her eyes lingered on Misty a second longer before she continued, smiling to herself. Every moment with Misty was a gift Cordelia got to unwrap, something to savor like a vintage wine and then tuck away next to her heart for safe keeping. 

By the time they made it inside, Cordelia’s whole body was damp or dripping in various places. She didn’t particularly enjoy the feeling, but Misty seemed more in her element than Cordelia had seen her in awhile. She wore the sweat like a badge and carried the grime on her skin with all the ease of someone who knew where she belonged. Cordelia admired that about her, that even when her return from hell made her doubt everything about herself, when she couldn’t find a reason to stick around, she emerged on the other side with a strong sense of self, with a purpose.

Coco was standing in the kitchen when they got there, sipping a tall glass of lemonade with a pitcher next to her on the island. She grimaced at the sight of them. “You look like you just got out of the shower,” she winced, blinking as she stepped away. Amusement blossomed on Misty’s face as she sniffed, scratching at her arm where dirt had dried, wet strands of hair sticking to her flushed cheeks. 

“I _feel_ like it, too,” Cordelia complained as Misty grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and poured both of them generous portions, lemon slices floating at the top. Her clothes were sticking to her in all the wrong places, and there was buzzing in her ears she was sure was from dehydration. 

“‘S’not so bad,” Misty offered, taking a sip, but there was a giddy radiance to her that wasn’t lost on her or Coco. 

“Yeah, maybe not when you’ve got the rippling biceps of a greek god,” she scoffed, and Cordelia’s cheeks flushed with Misty’s. “Or have like special Supreme magic coursing through your veins,” she added, and Cordelia raised her brow. 

“Being the Supreme doesn’t actually make me any physically stronger,” she offered, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple. “Or better equipped to handle the humidity.” Supremacy did have certain physical advantages like fast healing abilities and good physical health, but it didn’t give her stamina or strength. It just gave her the power to mimic it with magic. 

“Then I don’t know how you can stand to be out there. It’s like 96 degrees, and the humidity is killing my hair even in the air conditioning,” she pouted, running anxious fingers through her waves. 

“Looks fine to me,” Misty offered, leaning against the counter. 

“Thank you, Simba, but I don’t trust you to know when my hair looks fine,” she shook her head apologetically, and Cordelia had to stifle a laugh into her lemonade. The humidity had turned Misty’s hair so frizzy that her usual curls were barely recognizable. Misty frowned, running a hand over her head. 

“You look wonderful, Mist,” Cordelia assured her. 

“You also _smell_ wonderful,” Coco grimaced, blinking. “You know I love you, Cordelia, but that was at you too.” Cordelia glanced down at her sweaty, grimy body and nodded.

“Thank you, Coco, for the reminder.” 

“What are friends for,” she breathed, grabbing her drink. “Thank you both for the lemonade. I’m going to go sit in the dark with my tiny fan and cry,” she said diplomatically, leaving them alone. 

“Do we really smell bad?” Misty asked as Cordelia meandered toward her. 

“I think living alone in a _swamp_ has drastically altered your perception of bad,” Cordelia grinned, hooking her finger around the bib of Misty’s overalls and pulling her closer. “Though I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” Misty picked wet strands of hair from Cordelia’s forehead and shook her head. 

“Have t’do a lot more than smell bad to scare me off,” Misty mumbled fondly, and Cordelia hummed, swaying for a quiet moment. 

“Do you wanna take a shower?” she asked then, soft and quiet.

Misty hesitated as Cordelia fiddled with her overalls, fingers sliding over the straps and circling the clasp. After a thoughtful moment, to Cordelia’s delight, she nodded. 

“Yeah. I do.” Her voice was hoarse and lovely, and Cordelia smiled, biting hard on her lip. 

When they got to Cordelia’s room, hands clasped, Misty closed the door behind her and trailed Cordelia into the adjoining bathroom. The air was buzzing between them, and it crackled with something Cordelia didn’t think she could name, heart pounding in spite of herself. A hesitancy lingered there, a barrier that needed to be broken down, so Cordelia took out her ponytail, greasy hair falling limply at her shoulders. 

“Just a shower,” she said, and Misty’s face cracked enough for her to breathe and nod. Cordelia took a step forward in the harsh bathroom lights, thumbs swiping across the denim of her overalls. “Can I take these off?” 

Misty’s nod was careful but trusting, and Cordelia could sense the calm adoration behind her watchful eyes as she unclasped a shoulder, letting it fall against her back. This close, Cordelia could smell the tangy sting of sweat on her skin, the hint of cherry blossoms in her hair, and the rich aroma of wet earth on her clothes. She unclasped her other shoulder, slow and loving, fingers ghosting her collarbone as her overalls crumpled to the tile floor. Misty’s calloused fingers slipped under the hem of Cordelia’s baggy tee shirt and settled on her hips, sliding across the gentle curve of her waist and over her ribs, dragging the shirt with her. Cordelia lifted her arms and let Misty undress her until she was down to her underwear and bra. Then she stopped her with a kiss. 

“Hi,” Cordelia whispered against her. 

“Hi,” Misty sighed back, eyes fluttering open. Cordelia’s heart pounded in time with Misty’s, itching to touch her but so nervous now, standing toe to toe. She felt strangely like a teenager, indulging in something forbidden, building sweet gentle secrets for two. Slowly, she inched Misty’s shirt up, resisting the urge to hold her breath. “Take it off,” Misty instructed, eyes fluttering to Cordelia’s, and Cordelia did exactly as she was told. Then she rested her hand against Misty’s stomach, delighting in the way she twitched under her, and took a second to breathe. 

Her heart swelled to her throat, and she found herself wanting to lay Misty down and kiss every inch of her skin, to cherish the places Misty hid. She wanted to see her naked for the same reason she’d knelt down to untie her boots, to show Misty how much she was loved. 

Swallowing, she turned toward the shower, fingers falling from Misty’s stomach. The whoosh of the water shattered something delicate in the room, and when Cordelia turned back, Misty was setting her underwear and sports bra on the pile of clothes they’d collected in the corner. Cordelia blinked, chest seizing up as Misty took a step toward her. “ _Misty_ ,” she breathed, barely coherent, as Misty curled her fingers under Cordelia’s own bra. 

“Slow poke,” she teased with an impish smile, and Cordelia lifted her arms as Misty slid off her bra. Before she could process just how stunningly gorgeous Misty was, she was kneeling down in front of her, lips skidding down her stomach, thumbs hooking under the elastic of her underwear. Cordelia tensed, breath hitching as Misty tugged them to the floor, pressing her lips under her belly button. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Cordelia gasped, “Misty,” she sighed, nearly a whine, her fingers sliding through Misty’s hair just before she stood back up. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Guess you’re gettin’ your wish ‘bout the water,” she breathed, eyes sparkling, as she stepped past Cordelia into the shower. Cordelia blinked again and was surprised to find herself overwhelmed, mind spinning as she turned to watch Misty tip her head back and soak her hair. “Comin’ in?” 

Cordelia couldn’t deny that her skin was flushed, that there was a dull ache starting up between her legs at the lovely, sweaty sight of her, but something about Misty’s attitude was fast, dismissive almost. “Misty, look at me,” she said, standing just outside the tub. She did, smoothing back her hair from the stream, rivulets trickling through the hair under her arms. “Is this okay?” Misty dropped her arms and grabbed Cordelia’s hand. 

“Really okay,” she smiled, yanking Cordelia under the showerhead. She gasped at the sensation, grabbing hold of Misty’s arms for support. “Feels good, huh?” Cordelia let the spray beat down on her tired shoulders for a moment, eyes closed, and opened them to find Misty looking at her, eyes wandering, lingering. 

“Feels really good,” she smiled, biting her lip. “Hand me the shampoo.” Misty did after a moment of mumbled searching. Then Cordelia pushed her shoulder to turn around, and Misty giggled but did as instructed. 

“I am capable of bathin’ myself, ya know,” she teased as Cordelia squeezed an ample amount of shampoo in her palm and handed the bottle to Misty to put back. 

“What’s the fun in that,” she whispered into her ear and then leaned down to kiss her neck and her shoulder, all covered in freckles. Slowly, Cordelia massaged the shampoo through Misty’s hair, fingers digging into her scalp. Her head rocked with the movements until her body loosened, swaying against Cordelia’s. 

“Jesus, Delia, that’s nice,” Misty nearly moaned. “Got magic fingers.” Cordelia laughed into her ear, low and humming, and she felt Misty shiver against her.

“You know, I didn’t tell you you’re beautiful because I wanna fuck you,” she breathed against Misty’s ear, feeling her breath hitch. “Or because I wanted to oogle you in the shower,” she chuckled. “I said it because I wanted you to know how breathtakingly gorgeous you are,” she said low into her skin, the words lingering between them like a promise. 

When Misty turned to rinse her hair, Cordelia watched as soap trailed down the curves of her body, the swell of her breasts and the soft skin of her belly. Misty was stunning, but it wasn’t those things about her that made her so beautiful. It was Misty’s heart that made the rest of her so achingly gorgeous. And it was such a privilege to see her this way, eyes closed under the spray, so at ease and trusting and open. 

Cordelia swallowed and quelled the sudden urge to sweep Misty in her arms and press kisses to her cheeks, instead grabbing the shampoo for herself. Hearing the bottle open, Misty caught her wrist before she could squeeze anything from it. 

“Let me,” she said quietly, but instead of flipping Cordelia around, she pulled her closer, raising her arms and tilting Cordelia’s head down. “Relax,” she whispered, kissing her forehead before her fingers slid through wet hair. Holding Misty against her, skin sliding in the water, Cordelia felt the dull pull of arousal. Misty’s fingers were firm and slow against her scalp, and Cordelia leaned in to kiss Misty’s neck, shifting. Misty faltered as Cordelia’s teeth scraped, and one of her hands slid to the back of Cordelia’s neck, holding her as she kissed a lazy trail up her jaw. 

It took all of Cordelia’s patience and restraint not to push Misty against the wall of the shower. So as they conditioned their hair, Cordelia turned playful, flicking water at Misty’s face. She startled, gasping, and then mustered a playful glower, flicking water right back at her. “Shouldn’t start a war you can’t finish, Miss Supreme,” Misty warned, and something about her using that title with Cordelia while naked and _wet_ made her so very weak at the knees. 

“Awfully confident of you,” Cordelia mused, watching as Misty coated the ends of her hair with conditioner, so much longer without its curl. 

“Well, it’s earned,” she said decisively. “Got into more fights than I can count way back when. Think I can take you an’ yer skinny little arms.” 

Cordelia tried to look offended, but all she could do was laugh, running her hands through clean hair, eyes closing against the water. It was true. She’d never so much as thrown a fist. “Well you can’t always win with brute force,” she drawled. 

“Cordelia Goode, are you tryin’ to tell me you fight dirty?” Misty offered, mirth sparkling in her voice. 

“I’ve no idea what you’re… _hmm_ ,” she was cut off when Misty kissed her, a calloused hand cupping her jaw. It was open mouthed and hot, and Cordelia, caught so far off guard, whimpered as Misty pulled her back out of the spray. She stumbled with her, brain barely caught up to her body, when something cold and thick oozed across her scalp. She pulled back, trying to catch her breath, a hand shooting to her hair and coming back coated in the conditioner she’d just spent two minutes rinsing out of her hair. The glare she shot Misty was met with a beaming grin as she hastily shoved the conditioner bottle behind her back. 

“Y’aren’t the only one who can fight dirty, baby,” she said, so matter of fact, slipping in such an affectionate pet name like it was nothing. And Cordelia, in a rare moment, was speechless, her body buzzing so close to Misty. “What’re you smilin’ about?” she asked with a goofy laugh, and Cordelia didn’t realize she had been. 

“I just…” she bit back another gushing _I love you_ , meeting Misty’s eyes, and the air between them sobered for a moment. “ _You_. Always you.” Misty seemed to know what she’d been about to say and blushed, looking down. 

“Go on an’ rinse your hair. I’m gettin’ cold over here,” she mumbled, but there was a smile flickering at her lips that Cordelia didn’t miss. 

“Come _here_ then,” Cordelia breathed, pulling her back so they were both under the showerhead. They were quiet then as Cordelia washed her hair out. Misty’s fingers traced patterns in her stomach, hands settling loosely on her hips, holding her steady. Neither had brought up the teary confession of love from Friday. Cordelia was still debating whether it was even worth it, but she knew that now wasn’t the time. When they traded places so Misty could rinse too, Cordelia strayed away but only for a moment to drizzle soap on a loofah, suds spilling over her hands. 

And Misty, still and quiet, let Cordelia bathe her. As she trailed the loofah across her chest, her eyes flickered up to watch Misty, but she was too focused on Cordelia’s movements to notice. And when she dragged it down her soft stomach, she noted the shallow rise and fall of Misty’s chest with a budding arousal. In one smooth movement, Cordelia hooked her free hand under the back of Misty’s thigh and hiked it up, met with a choked gasp. She dragged the loofah up her leg, watching as soap trickled through the dark hair on Misty’s calves, around her knee, and through the lighter hair on her thighs. She pressed the loofah higher, to Misty’s inner thigh, grazing the lovely dark curls between her legs. 

“Delia,” Misty groaned, and she looked up, dragging the loofah low under her belly button. Her eyes were dark, face flushed. Cordelia trailed the loofah under her chest, knuckles grazing the swell of her breast, itching to touch. “Feel like I’m burnin’ up,” she mumbled, and Cordelia bit back a moan, finally dropping the loofah to the shower floor. She pulled Misty’s leg higher, sliding against her, and tucked it around her hips. Misty held it there, curling in, as Cordelia kissed her. And her hips slammed up against Misty’s as she pressed her to the wall, gasping into her mouth, heart pounding. Her arm snaking to hold Misty’s lower back, she slid her other hand up Misty’s chest, melting at the way her nipple pebbled at the lightest touches. “Think we’re clean enough yet?” Misty gasped into her mouth. 

“Eager to get out?” Cordelia mumbled, sliding down to nip at her jaw. 

“I…” her breathing hitched, holding tightly to Cordelia. “ _Oh_ , you’re good at that,” she gasped as Cordelia sucked at her skin. “I wanna touch you, _ah_ , _Delia_.” Cordelia moaned faintly into Misty’s neck. 

“Yeah?” 

“ _Yeah_.” 

Rinsing, shutting off the water, and clamoring out of the shower was a blur of limbs and sloppy kisses. It wasn’t until Misty was scrubbing a towel through her hair that Cordelia found a moment to breathe, to realize how hard her heart was pounding. Though the throbbing between her legs made her restless and desperate, she needed a second to reign herself in. She knew that if Misty started touching her, she was going to unravel quicker than she could tell her to slow down. 

“You okay?” Misty asked as Cordelia leaned against the cool counter, feeling flushed and sensitive. She wanted to believe that she shouldn’t be so aroused from making out in the shower, but Misty was standing there naked, warm and soft and dripping from the water, and Cordelia knew, without a doubt, that she was very, very wet. 

“I’m just…” she couldn’t think clearly enough to finish the sentence, so she nodded as Misty came up to her, eyes dark and sparkling with amusement. 

“ _Just…_ ” she trailed off, arms snaking around Cordelia’s waist as she leaned down to kiss her neck. Her breathing hitched, hands sliding up Misty’s arms. “Tell me,” she breathed hot onto Cordelia’s neck, pressing sloppy kisses there, her hands getting firmer on Cordelia’s skin. 

“You’re good at... _oh_ ,” she gasped, unable to finish, as Misty rolled a nipple between her fingers, trailing her tongue up Cordelia’s throat. Her other hand snaked down over her ass, across her hip, and stopped dangerously close to the hair between Cordelia’s legs. Something choked forced its way up Cordelia’s throat, and the throbbing between her legs started up like it never stopped. Gently, Misty pressed into Cordelia’s inner thigh, forcing her legs apart. Cordelia couldn’t have resisted if she tried. “You sure?” she breathed, unable to form complete sentences. Her whole body was on fire, every touch so sensitive, Misty’s hands so lovingly possessive. 

“I want you,” she whispered, sliding her fingers down through wet folds. Both of their breathing hitched, though Cordelia was the only one whose eyes fluttered closed. “ _God_ , Delia,” Misty groaned, her fingers clicking against her clit. She whined, wanting to tell Misty how desperately she needed to be fucked _right now_ , but was unsure how much dirty talk was too much dirty talk. They hadn’t had a chance to have a conversation about it. “Good at what?” 

“Turning me on,” Cordelia whined, draping her arms over Misty’s shoulders to keep her upright. “It’s a little, _oh god_ , little embarrassing, _ah_ —actually,” she moaned as Misty circled her swollen clit. Then she stopped, her hands sliding down to the back of Cordelia’s thighs and hiking her up on the counter with a faint grunt into her neck. Positively aching, Cordelia wrapped her legs around Misty’s hips, pulling her in. Misty wrapped an arm around her back, sliding the other between her legs. She moaned low into Misty’s mouth at the feeling, slick and sensitive. Then her fingers dipped lower until they slid, embarrassingly easily, into Cordelia. She cried out weakly as Misty thrust into her, curling her fingers. Legs shaking, Cordelia held onto her, mouth plastered to her shoulder as she adjusted, as the feeling spread heat down to the tips of her toes. 

“Fuck, baby,” Misty sighed, and Cordelia tightened around her fingers, twitching her hips into her hand. The pet name sent Cordelia’s already foggy mind spinning, a pang of arousal shooting through her. “Were you this wet in the shower?” Cordelia mumbled something affirmative into Misty’s skin, and she groaned, thrusting hard enough to make Cordelia cry out. She could hear just how wet she was as Misty fingered her, and when her thumb brushed Cordelia’s clit it pulled a gasping moan from her throat, her hand coming down to steady herself before her ass slipped on the counter. Misty was quick to catch her, her arm tightening around her back, she didn’t even slow. “I’ve got you,” she breathed into Cordelia’s ear who shivered, arms draped over Misty again. She was tightening around her fingers, pressure mounting in her core. 

“ _Oh_ , keep going,” she whined, nails digging into her back. It wasn’t long before Cordelia was trembling in Misty’s arms, short, gasping moans pulled from her throat and then a moment of bated breath as she clenched tight around Misty’s fingers. A low, drawn out moan slipped from her lips and into Misty’s skin, followed by a whimpered gasping of her name and a pleading _fuck_. When she could breathe again, Misty was still inside her, her fingers slow but purposeful as she curled hard against Cordelia’s walls. She gasped, feeling increasingly hot, but it devolved into a needy whine. “Oh, _god_ , honey,” she sighed, holding the back of her neck. “ _Please_ ,” she whined, on the verge of going again. Misty pulled out, and Cordelia groaned, sinking her teeth into her shoulder. 

Misty’s breathing was heavy, pupils blown wide when Cordelia pulled back to look at her. “You’re so pretty like that,” she admitted, cheeks flushed as Cordelia adjusted her shaking legs around Misty’s hips. 

“Like what?” she asked, slow, still recovering. Misty blushed and swallowed. 

“Wet. _Needy_ ,” she drawled, and Cordelia leaned forward to kiss the embarrassment off her face. 

“All for you, sweetheart,” she breathed, kissing Misty again, softer and slower. Misty followed, but it was lazy, easy, and Cordelia let herself cool off, wrapping her arms around Misty in a hug. Misty returned it, resting her face in the crook of Cordelia’s neck. “ _Oh_ , your hair,” Cordelia groaned, realizing she’d tangled it, probably pulled on it, in the heat of the moment. “I’m sorry.” 

“Felt good,” Misty mumbled into her skin, and Cordelia flushed, tucking that information away for later. 

“Let me comb it for you,” she whispered into her hair, kissing her head. Misty paused, thoughtful, then nodded, pulling back to help Cordelia down from the counter. “Go sit on the bed, I’ll be there in a minute.” Misty kissed her cheek before she left, leaving Cordelia to stare at herself in the mirror, skin flushed and legs shaking under her. She felt cold without Misty pressed against her. Chasing that thought away, she splashed water across her face, grabbed her comb, and followed Misty into the bedroom. 

She was sitting naked and cross legged on Cordelia’s four poster when she crawled on behind her and kissed the curve of her spine. She started gently at the ends, and Misty let her eyes close at the feeling. 

“Always liked gettin’ my hair brushed,” she admitted. Cordelia’s smile was gentle, leaning forward to kiss her shoulder. This was another act of devotion, and Cordelia shoved down the blooming thoughts of love in her mind. Once was enough until Misty said it back. _If_ she did. She had to admit the thought scared her. She’d loved Hank, for a time, but it didn’t even touch the way she loved Misty. 

“Me too,” Cordelia breathed. “Myrtle would always do it for me when I was little.”

“Fiona never?” Cordelia fought the urge to tense, but her hands did pause in Misty’s thick hair. As was agreeing to shower with her, this too was a measure of trust. 

“She did,” Cordelia offered, her voice dipping. “But she was never this gentle. It exhausted her that my hair tangled in the morning. She assumed I wasn’t taking care of it.” She shook her head, gently combing her way up Misty’s head. “The first time I let Myrtle brush my hair, I cried. I thought, this must be what love is like.” 

The words hung heavy between them as Cordelia finished combing in silence, forcing down the bitter sadness that came when talking about Fiona. When her hair was silk between her fingers, Cordelia stopped, her hands on Misty’s shoulders. She leaned back against Cordelia, turning her head, and Cordelia found her eyes brimming with something she couldn’t quite name. “Your turn,” she said, her voice decisive and warm, and Cordelia flushed, the implication of her previous words not lost on either of them. Chest tight, they both turned, and Misty started on her hair, light and gentle as she tugged at the ends. “My mama always combed my hair out after a bath. She’d sit me down on this ratty ol’ towel and make me close my eyes. Told me t’listen to my breathin’. Said to focus real hard on the way it sounds inside. The way it feels,” she encouraged, and Cordelia’s own eyes closed, Misty’s hands gentle in her hair. “Taught me how to center myself. It’s how I reach my magic. It’s like I’m...pullin’ it up from somewhere deep,” she said, the comb sliding through Cordelia’s hair. “She always said it was some secret she’d learned,” Misty chuckled in her ear. “Guess it’s your secret now too, sunshine.” 

Cordelia’s eyes flickered open, a smile tugging at her lips. Misty kissed her head and set the comb down, and Cordelia turned, laying down on her side. Misty followed on her stomach, arms folded under her chin. She felt so relaxed and _safe_ there next to her, a calm settling between them that Cordelia could melt into, could too easily let consume her. 

“Why do you call me that?” she asked softly, amusement tugging at her voice. 

“Sunshine?” Misty mumbled, and Cordelia hummed. “Don’t like it?” 

“I _do_. I...really,” she laughed. “I love hearing it. It’s just not…I guess I’ve never heard it before. As a term of endearment.” 

“You know that song?” Misty asked quietly, and when Cordelia’s brow twitched down, she hummed a verse of _You Are My Sunshine_ into her skin, pressing her toes into the mattress. She sang with a sweet sort of embarrassment, the kind that bares your heart but still tries to hide, to dismiss. “Reminds me of you. ‘Cept only the good parts. Ya know, it’s like one of our state songs or somethin’,” she mused, setting her cheek down on her hand so she could look at Cordelia. The song played loops in Cordelia’s head as Misty watched her. There were declarations of love in those melodies sweeter than Cordelia knew how to catalogue. Maybe that was the point. 

Their voices were quieter after that, like the room had closed in on Cordelia’s bed, shrouded them in something delicate and dancing. They talked about nothing, really, their conversation floating between topics, inching closer until Cordelia could trace circles in Misty’s back. When the light started to fade behind Cordelia’s curtains, they fell silent, Misty’s eyes fluttering closed at Cordelia’s gentle hand trailing across her skin, connecting freckles with soft fingers. Then she licked her lips, sliding down next to Misty on her back, head turned so they could look at each other. 

“Can I ask you something?” Misty hummed, her eyes opening as she swallowed and focused on Cordelia, their sides pressed together. “What changed? I mean, you seem so...open. Relaxed.” she leaned closer, resting her cheek on Misty’s elbow. “You let me beg,” she whispered, a smile tugging at her lips. Misty smiled and blushed, digging her face into her arms. 

“Well, turned out to be really, _really_ hot,” she mumbled into her skin and then lifted her head, scooting over to wrap an arm around Cordelia’s waist, her cheek propped up on her elbow, Cordelia laid out under her. “I dunno,” she breathed, her hair falling forward, still a little damp but starting to curl. Cordelia hummed, lifting her leg so Misty’s knee could slide beneath it. “I realized carin’ for someone has never been so easy when it’s you. It feels different, ya know. My mind doesn’t wander back as much as it used to. An’ even when my head’s tellin’ me such nasty things, when I can’t control it, I still trust you. It makes everythin’ bad easier to ignore, I guess.” 

Cordelia smiled, soft and blooming, her head tilting on the covers, a hand coming up to trace across Misty’s ribs. Slowly, she was starting to realize that Misty might have been saying _I love you_ this whole time, in different words, in the way she touched Cordelia. 

“Kiss me,” she whispered, and Misty didn’t have to be told twice. With Cordelia’s foot sliding up Misty’s calf, her hands holding so sweetly onto Misty’s face, they shared a loving kiss, tenderly intimate, a gentle breeze on a hot day.

It wasn’t until Misty shifted to settle down between her legs that the kiss deepened, her tongue sliding against Cordelia’s. Pressed together, Cordelia felt the familiar warmth of arousal building slow inside her, her thighs cradling Misty’s hips. Misty’s breath caught when Cordelia arched up against her, lips sliding and desperate as they moved with each other. Curiously, she trailed a hand across Misty’s ribs and over her breast between them. She was delighted to find her nipple knotted and hard. She rolled it between her fingers, and Misty hissed, breaking the kiss and twitching back, forehead against Cordelia’s. 

“Sensitive,” Cordelia mused, soothing with gentle swirls around her areola.

“ _Delia_. Touch me,” Misty said then, a whine filtering through. 

Cordelia paused, heat flushing through her. This was important. Misty hadn’t asked this of her before, hadn’t ever _wanted_ it as achingly as she did now. So she kissed her, hard, and Misty sighed into her mouth, a choked noise coming up her throat and settling in the back of Cordelia’s. But her quick confidence from earlier, the ease of her words, faded to something so much softer, more unsure as they kissed. Misty may not know exactly what she’s doing in bed, but she’s certainly damn good at it. Cordelia just hoped she could keep that same enthusiasm, that willingness to be clumsy and messy, about being touched as she did about doing the touching. 

“Hey,” she breathed, and Misty snapped out of her head to meet Cordelia’s eyes. “You’re in control,” she assured, and slowly Misty nodded. “Say it.” 

“I’m in control,” she breathed, naked on top of Cordelia, already vulnerable and raw in a way she’d never been before, and Cordelia, _oh_ , she was so proud of her. A grin split Cordelia’s cheeks, and Misty followed, a little confused, but more relaxed as she laughed. “Ya really are a vision, Cordelia,” she shook her head, a dreamy smile on her lips as she leaned down to kiss her again. 

It was deep and playful as Cordelia pressed into her, chasing her lips up and pulling them back down, exhaling into open mouthed kisses. She trailed her nails lightly up Misty’s back, noting the twitching of her muscles, the sigh into her mouth. And she was so _warm_ , heating radiating out from between her legs against Cordelia’s core. Her nipples pebbled against Cordelia’s skin, and she realized, with a pang of arousal, that Misty was waiting for her, that she didn’t know what to do, how this all worked when the tables were turned. So Cordelia rolled her hips up against Misty and was absolutely mesmerized when she faltered, breath coming out hot on Cordelia’s mouth, her hips twitching away and them coming back down harder. 

“ _Misty_ ,” Cordelia groaned, her voice dripping with arousal. “Turn over,” she breathed, nipping at Misty’s bottom lip. She did, climbing off Cordelia and laying back, hair splayed out, watching Cordelia closely through hooded eyes as she settled down next to her. She pressed her palm just under Misty’s breast, thumb scraping it, just barely. “Is this okay still?” The only thing Cordelia wanted more than to see Misty writhing under her was to know that she was comfortable. 

“Yeah,” she breathed, back arching slightly into Cordelia’s touch. 

“Do you still want me to touch you?” she asked, watching closely as Misty nodded. 

“ _Yeah_ ,” she said, more firmly, her voice choked. Cordelia hummed, and Misty swallowed it as their lips met, her thumb flicking over Misty’s nipple. One of her arms slid under Misty’s neck, holding her, and the other squeezed her waist, pressing her into the mattress. When her hand slid lower, Misty tensed under her, kissing Cordelia harder as she parted her legs with a gentle press of her hand. Cordelia’s own heart pounded, excited and turned on by Misty’s simmering arousal. And when she slid careful fingers through thick curls, she was met with slick folds. Misty’s breathing stuttered, her eyes fluttering open to meet Cordelia’s, their noses grazing. Slowly, she brought the wetness at her entrance up to circle her clit. A choked sound wrenched its way up Misty’s throat, hesitant and stiff, and Cordelia kissed her, deep and slow. Eventually, she had a hard time following when Cordelia found a rhythm that made her melt, and Cordelia felt like she was burning, enamoured by every reaction she could pull from her. She leaned down to pepper kisses along her throat, nipping and sucking until Misty whined, faintly, her hips curling up against Cordelia. She was so quiet, unsure, but Cordelia was patient, attentive, as she left a mark on the skin above her collarbone. 

“Honey, _relax_ ,” she whispered into her skin, feeling as Misty swallowed, her breathing irregular. She pulled up, kissing her cheek. “Look at me.” Her eyes fluttered open as Cordelia’s fingers slid down to gather fading wetness and pull it up. “You are so beautiful,” she smiled, kissing her once and then again, slower. Misty chased her lips, fingers tangled in her hair as she kept her close. 

“Delia, I…” she whispered, choked, squeezing her eyes shut, their foreheads pressed together. Cordelia’s fingers stilled. 

She hushed her gently, stopping whatever apology Misty was about to give her. “Are you okay?” Misty nodded as Cordelia slid her hand up to rest under her belly button. She could feel embarrassment welling in Misty as she started to tense against her. 

“It’s not you,” she muttered, her cheeks flushing, and Cordelia kissed her forehead, sensing now may not be the right time to ask her what it was instead. Regardless, there were other ways to get Misty wet. 

“Misty,” she mumbled, leaning down to kiss her, her hand coming up to hold her jaw. Misty hummed as Cordelia deepened it, shifting against her. She kissed her until their lips were sliding, until Misty’s embarrassment melted away, languid with a faint hint of urgency welling underneath, Cordelia pressing in and adoring the way Misty moved with her. “I wanna taste you,” she breathed against her mouth, and Misty faltered, her lip catching under Cordelia’s. The muscles in her belly tightened under Cordelia, and her eyes fluttered open. 

“ _What_?” She was breathless, her pupils blown wide. The arousal Cordelia had seen in the bathroom was simmering under Misty’s skin again, and she bit her lip. 

“Has anyone gone down on you before?” 

“No one’s ever wanted to,” Misty admitted quietly, and Cordelia kissed her, lingering against her lips. 

“ _I_ want to,” she whispered, and Misty’s breathing hitched, her fingers tightening in Cordelia’s hair. 

“Okay,” she nodded, choked, and Cordelia kissed her once, twice, and another on her cheek as she untangled herself from Misty. Again, Cordelia felt frustration and anger digging through her heart at the thought of some boy fucking Misty with such blatant disregard for her pleasure or comfort or genuine _consent_. She wanted to show Misty what sex was supposed to feel like, wanted her to know the lovely aching warmth that comes with giving yourself to another person, the way it feels when someone knows every curve of your body as instinctually as they know their own. It’s like magic. And she desperately wished she could erase every rough hand and misplaced touch from Misty’s skin with her lips. Though it was fruitless, she couldn’t say she didn’t try as she kissed her way down Misty’s body. Her lips closed over a niple, tongue drawing lazy circles there, sucking until Misty gasped. She left a bright red mark under the swell of her breast and another below her belly button. Misty’s muscles tightened as she watched her, breath shaky. As she parted her legs and settled between them, Cordelia wrapped her arms around Misty’s thighs, holding her steady. Gently, she kissed each one, eyes locked onto Misty’s. Cordelia wasn’t sure she subscribed to the idea of sex as a sacred act, but with Misty it certainly felt devotional.

“ _Delia_ ,” she whined, and Cordelia didn’t need to be told twice. She dipped her face between Misty’s legs, parting dark curls and sliding her tongue, soft and flat, through damp folds to her clit. Something between a groan and a whine tumbled from Misty’s lips as her head fell back. “Jesus fucking Christ,” she gasped, hips twitching up. Cordelia held her steady, eyes closing as she focused in on _Misty_. Still soft, she swirled Misty’s clit, wet and hot as she exhaled onto her. 

“ _God_ , you taste good,” Cordelia muttered, absolutely intoxicated. Misty moaned, her fingers sliding through Cordelia’s hair and holding. When she thought Misty could handle it, she pointed her tongue and flicked stronger strokes against her clit. Her hips bucked, a choked moan spilling from her, and Cordelia held her down, humming as she sucked. 

“ _Oh_ , that feels good,” Misty moaned as Cordelia found a rhythm that worked for both of them, burying her face deeper. Soon Misty was moving with her, just slightly, enough to destabilize Cordelia’s movements. Smiling, she pulled back, licking her lips and unhooking an arm from Misty’s thigh, bringing it down to slide her fingers through soaking wet folds and around her clit. Misty groaned faintly, her grip on Cordelia’s hair loosening. 

“ _Fuck_ , Misty,” Cordelia whispered, kissing her inner thigh, resting her cheek there as she watched Misty’s flushed face, her back arching just slightly. Her fingers clicked against Misty, and Misty’s eyes opened in surprise. “That’s all you,” she offered, biting back a smile. Chest heaving, Misty slid her hand down to Cordelia’s chin, cupping gently, her fingers coming back slick and shining in the lights. 

“Delia,” she sighed, and it spiked to a moan as Cordelia pressed into her clit. She dipped her fingers lower, swimming in wetness, and found she could slide them inside Misty without resistance, if she wanted. The thought sent heat pooling between her own legs, and she kissed Misty’s curls. 

“Can I finger you?” she asked, and Misty tilted her hips up, swearing quietly. She didn’t answer as Cordelia slowed. Then she swallowed, opening her eyes and staring at the ceiling. When she looked down at Cordelia, there was something swimming in her eyes. 

“I...” she started finally, blinking, as Cordelia’s fingers circled her clit, slow and agonizing. “I think…” 

“Hmm,” Cordelia hummed, nipping at her thigh, tongue coming out to soothe. 

“I want ya to try it,” she said then, breath hitching as Cordelia’s fingers slid up around her clit, tightening against it.

“Are you sure? I don’t— _you_ don’t—have to,” she assured, her voice low, attentive to Misty’s body language. 

“I want ya to,” she said, licking her lips with a nod. Cordelia bit her own, dragging her fingers down to part slick folds. She wanted to _see_ her. So she unhooked her other arm from around Misty’s thigh and swiped a thumb over her swollen clit, delighting in the quick gasp it pulled from her. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Cordelia sighed, leaning down to kiss her there, so sensitive and pink. As her fingers moved lower, parting, she paused, the tip of her finger trailing across something she couldn’t put a name to for a moment. There was white, rough tissue near Misty’s opening, and it took Cordelia’s arousal foggy mind far too long to realize it was scarring. She blinked, heart dropping to the pit of her stomach. She glanced up at Misty, her eyes closed, cheeks flushed. For a burning moment, Cordelia wanted to kill whoever had done this to Misty. _Misty_. Laying there spread open for _her_ , wet and restless and closer than she probably realized to an orgasm, one that came easily and was given with intention. More than anything in this world, Cordelia wanted Misty to know what that felt like. 

Quietly, she slipped her middle finger into her mouth and then slid it gently into Misty, still so very wet.

“ _Oh_ ,” Misty gasped, her walls fluttering around Cordelia’s finger. Soft and slow, she slid back and then in and up, curling against her. Misty was quiet, her breathing uneven. Cordelia leaned down and swirled her tongue across Misty’s clit, watching closely as her hips twitched, a choked sound in the back of her throat. Her finger matched the pace of her tongue, rhythmic and languid, and Misty’s throat bobbed. Her hand was fisting the sheets, and Cordelia worried, for a moment, her tongue faltering. She reached up with her free hand and eased Misty’s fingers loose, sliding her own between them, squeezing. Misty squeezed back, and Cordelia tilted her head away, kissing Misty’s inner thigh. 

“Are you okay?” she whispered, afraid to break the tension that had built in Misty’s body. Misty’s eyes fluttered, and she didn’t answer right away, biting her lip, her chest red. She wasn’t as wet anymore, and in an effort to change that, Cordelia scooped her finger inside Misty. 

“ _Ah_ ,” she gasped, curling up, shaking. She broke their hands. “ _Stop_. Stop.” 

Cordelia pulled out, and Misty sat up, her breathing erratic. Her chest was red and blotchy like the last time Cordelia touched her, and her heart cracked in two as she pulled herself up, sitting back on her heels. “Misty, _hey_ , sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re _safe_ ,” she breathed desperately, reaching out for Misty’s hand. She recoiled as if she’d been burned, and Cordelia quickly felt a lump forming in her throat, heart pounding out of her chest. The air crackled dangerously between them as tears welled in Misty’s eyes. She was trembling, her arms around her knees, and Cordelia didn’t know what to do. 

“‘M sorry,” she mumbled, voice cracking and unsteady as tears dripped from her eyes.

“Misty, _please_ , you don’t...there’s nothing to be sorry for,” Cordelia choked, holding her hands tight in her lap so she didn’t reach out for her again. A sob caught in Misty’s throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to catch her breath. “Breathe, honey,” Cordelia said gently, and this time she did reach forward. “Hey, calm down. You’re okay. You’re _okay_.” As soon as her hand came down softly on Misty’s knee, she jerked, her breath catching. The surprise stopped them both, for a moment, and then Misty swallowed. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” she groaned, sliding off the bed and walking to the bathroom. Cordelia’s hands were shaking, her own breathing uneven, and by the time she gathered herself and turned, Misty was clasping the final shoulder of her overalls, barefoot and braless, shirt bunched at her shoulder, hair curling and light. There were tears on her flushed cheeks when she left, the door closing firmly behind her. 

In the deafening silence, Cordelia slumped, tears welling in her own eyes. She chewed at her lip, glancing down to her fingers, damp with Misty’s arousal. Guilt and worry and an aching sadness so deep she couldn’t feel the bottom of it swirled through her in the quiet. An echo of Misty’s expression played over and over in her head. So panicked and tight, she’d been somewhere else entirely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Misty made some progress… 
> 
> Would love to hear your thoughts in the comments!


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS!! Brief conversation about rape, kinks discussed when Misty is in the absolute wrong headspace for it, mentions of emotional self harm, smoking

Misty had spent years of her life unable to cry, her emotions simmering into anger instead. Angry at her family, her town, those _boys_ for doing something so disgusting and unspeakable and then leaving her to rot. She built herself a life in that shack, with those gators and her garden, out of spite, some desperate, quaking bitterness that seared into her bones. She’d felt hatred like she never had before in her whole life, but it kept her alive during a time she couldn’t find a reason to be, having lost everything and everyone she held dear. 

Eventually, the anger was dulled by routine. It was ritualistic in nature, characterized by careful devotions to the land she lived on, the place she called home, the creatures that shared space with her. She was a protector, of sorts, a medium between this world and the next. And she learned to draw her strength from faith, maybe not in god but in something _bigger_ , and from relinquishing the delusion of control instead of relying on anger or sadness or the hopeless, sinking weight in her chest. 

Stevie Nicks saved her life more than once, those soulful melodies etched into her very soul. It was like she knew something, a secret maybe, that Misty could only scratch at, something primal and _real_ in a way Misty had never known. She spent her life as an outcast, and it had drawn her to nature, to Stevie, to something _alive_ within the boundaries of her heart that sparked the first time she saved an innocent creature out in that swamp, away from prying eyes. It felt right. It felt _holy_ in a way she’d never imagined she could be. An abomination, they called her as they were dragging her through the field, gasoline sloshing in her ears. Misty was no saint, but she couldn’t see a single way this gift could be _wrong_. 

Anger used to be something that came easy to her, sparked into an inferno at the slightest inconvenience. She used it as a mask to guard against all the pain she didn’t know how to let sit inside her. By the time Zoe and Kyle came into her life, Misty had learned to control it, to turn it into compassion, mostly, but she hadn’t learned to cry without shame. 

When she was brought back from hell, it felt like she might never _stop_ crying. 

And now, _now_ , she was angry. Blinded by shame and frustration, her head swimming in the past, she let herself press it into anger, hot and white inside her. She couldn’t even look at Cordelia. She wanted to disappear into herself, to let something, anything, consume her. 

The halls felt narrow and drawn out, the air thin as she trailed through them, aimless. She knew letting Cordelia finger her was a bad idea as soon as the words left her lips. Then why? Why would she let it happen? Wasn’t it enough to get that far? To let Cordelia lay her down so tenderly, with such love in her eyes, patient and careful and everything wonderful she always seemed to be. To touch her, mark her, _taste_ her in a way Misty wasn’t familiar with should have been enough. It should have been enough. Frayed and raw, she stumbled down the stairs, realizing with her stomach in her throat that maybe she just liked to hurt herself. 

She pushed her way through the front doors into the evening air. It was warm and humid, even when the sun had gone, but it was better than the stale air conditioned halls of Miss Robichaux’s. She felt shaky and weak, and memories were swallowing her down into a place she rarely let herself descend. She’d always been good at pushing down the things that upset her, justifying them or dismissing them. It wasn’t until sex with Cordelia became a possibility that Misty started thinking, started unlocking little boxes she didn’t realize she’d even locked away. 

Madison was sitting on the front steps, blue light from her phone casting deep shadows on the sharp angles of her face. She tapped ash from her cigarette onto the concrete and didn’t look up from Twitter. “What’s got your panties in a twist?” She seemed annoyed at the interruption, but it betrayed her curiosity, and Misty squeezed her eyes shut. “Are you _panting_?” she laughed bitterly, accusatory, and Misty, almost immediately, felt anger flash through her. She sat down next to Madison anyway.

“ _Piss_ off,” she spat, clenching her fists in her lap. Madison didn’t say anything, but Misty could hear the quick, amused puff of air from her nose. Tears stung in Misty’s eyes, and she swallowed as her throat closed. The tension in her body was simmering off of her, and Madison took it, absorbed it, fed off it. 

“What’d Cordy do to you?” 

“ _What_?” Misty turned, genuinely surprised, and Madison took a drag of her cigarette. 

“She must be into some freaky shit,” she said, smoke spilling from her lips. “You can’t be that uptight without having some deeply fucked up kinks,” she offered as if the words were said from experience. Misty’s lips curled, and she winced, turning her head down and wringing her hands out, slow and shaky. 

“She ain’t like that,” Misty insisted, but she couldn’t look at Madison. 

“What’d she lay on you? I bet she likes to be tied up. Paddles? Degradation? Knife play? It’s choking, isn’t it?” she pushed, the words swirling around in Misty’s head like they were happening to her, like she was the one being tied up, choked, degraded, _hit_. 

“Would you _shut up_?” she snapped, cheeks red, her whole body shaking. Madison stopped, blowing smoke in Misty’s direction. It filled her nose, tangy and sharp. “That really your first thought?” she asked, turning to Madison, something dangerous in her eyes. “I come out here cryin’, an’ the first thing to leave your damn mouth is ‘bout how Cordelia, what, pushed herself on me? Pushed those things on me?” 

Madison didn’t answer, just took a long, steady drag from her cigarette. Angrily, Misty wiped tears from her cheeks and shook her head. She felt like a rubber band, ready to snap. She wanted to turn and shake Madison real hard, to ask her what the fuck was wrong with her, ask her if she had even a _shred_ of empathy. 

“I ain’t afraid of you, Madison,” she said then, her voice low and frighteningly steady for someone who was on the verge of a panic attack. “You can’t hurt me, but I sure as fuck can hurt you.” 

She looked Madison in the eyes, watched her calculate something as they briefly narrowed. Misty was in too much pain to be hurt by anything Madison could think to spew at her anymore. After all, there was no one better at hurting Misty than herself. Madison chewed at her lip then turned away, and Misty, shaking like a leaf, knew she’d won, if only briefly. 

“You were in there for, like, hours,” she mused, her voice different now. Still biting and derogatory, but the edge was gone. Against her will, Misty felt fresh tears brewing in her eyes, her throat closing. She felt hot and stuffy and wound so tightly she could barely breathe.

“People knew?” she asked, trying to steady her voice, a humiliated flush creeping up her neck. 

“When the Supreme drags you up to her bedroom in the middle of the afternoon, people are gonna know about it,” she laughed. Misty’s lip trembled, and for a moment her burning bravado was gone again as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Oh, god,” Madison groaned. “If you’re just gonna cry about it I’m outta here.” She put her cigarette out on the concrete between them and sighed heavily as Misty grimaced and hung her head, her nose running. “Calm _down_ ,” she drawled, somehow making it sound as if Misty was the one doing something wrong. But she could hear the hesitancy in Madison’s voice, way deep down somewhere. She knew there was something bigger at play. And still, _still_ , she had the arrogance to taunt her, to push to the edge of breaking. “Don’t be a baby about it. It’s just sex,” she scoffed, a laugh dancing behind her words. 

And Misty snapped, her whole body on fire. Tears staining her cheeks, she turned, half standing over Madison as she fisted her shirt and came down with a heavy right hook to her jaw. She went down hard, her phone clattering on the concrete, barely catching herself before her face hit the step. Misty’s chest heaved, fists clenched as she towered over Madison gently cupping her cheek. 

“ _Fuck_!” she cried out, slowly sitting back up, her fingers coming back bloody from her lip. When Madison looked up, she wasn’t glowering at her like Misty expected her to be. Instead, there was a strange mixture of annoyance, surprise, and concern on her face. Misty’s eyes blurred with tears, and she unclenched her fists, practically stumbling down to her place on the steps next to Madison. “God _dammit_ ,” she hissed, wincing. 

Misty didn’t look at her, but she did hear her collecting her things, so she leaned forward over her thighs, trying to catch her breath. Punching Madison felt good, god did it feel good, but it didn’t _fix_ anything. When she heard the click of Madison’s lighter, she did look over, surprised to find her still sitting there starting on another cigarette. After the last beating Misty had given her, the Madison she knew would have scampered off, tail between her legs but pretending it wasn’t. 

“You scratched my fucking screen, bitch,” she growled, cigarette between her teeth as she pulled another from the pack. Wordlessly, without eye contact, she offered it to Misty. Hesitant and confused, Misty sat up straighter and took it gently like it was some kind of trick, wiping her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. Then she offered her the lighter. Misty took it, quicker this time, sniffling as she cupped her hand around the flame. She set the lighter down between them, and Madison put the pack right there next to it. They were sharing something now. Misty didn’t know what it was, too strange, too delicate to name. 

“So what was it?” Madison asked after Misty had taken two long, soothing drags. She wasn’t a smoker, not anymore, but her dad had been. For a brief moment when she closed her eyes, she almost remembered what it was like to sit in her family room, hazy in the midafternoon sun, as her daddy told her extravagant stories she’d promised never to forget. She could only remember a handful now, so tarnished by hate. 

“Why d’you care?” Misty snapped, smoke darting from her lips. 

“I don’t,” Madison said firmly, but then something twitched and softened as she looked away. “You’re a _sickeningly_ mushy person,” she started, but the bite faded as soon as she paused to take a drag. “And I’ve never seen you this upset.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Misty sighed, indignant and exasperated, cigarette between her lips as she slapped her palms down on her thighs. “Don’t _even_ ,” she warned, quickly pinning the cigarette between her first two fingers and pointing them at Madison. “I don’t wanna hear it. I don’t need this tonight. _Not_ tonight.” 

“You just punched me in the fucking jaw, and I’m still _sitting_ here, you _fucking_ idiot.” 

“I never asked ya to,” Misty shot back, and Madison rolled her eyes. 

“Why’d you even sit down in the first place? It’s no secret you don’t particularly _like_ me.” 

_Because I wanna hurt myself._

Misty swallowed and took another drag of her cigarette. It was calming that roiling sea inside her, just a little, enough to be manageable anyway. One of her brothers had given her her first cigarette, stolen from their dad’s stash, giggling the way children do, nervous and excited. She’d smoked on and off through high school, when things got bad. Then something changed, shifted inside her, and one day she just stopped, the thought of smoking suddenly repulsive to her. That was less than a month before she saved that bird, before her whole life flipped on its head. Misty was still convinced that it was her budding magic protecting her _somehow_. And she hadn’t realized until much later, sitting in her shack, angry as all hell at everything and everyone, that it had been a kind of coping mechanism, a way to soothe the hurt. 

“I dunno,” Misty mumbled, raising her knees then letting them fall back down. The concrete was cold against her toes. It felt good. 

“Bull. _Shit_.” 

“I wanted to get away,” she rushed then shook her head, slowing. “Forget. For a while.”

“So I’m just some punching bag for you to take all your anger out on?” 

“That’s the idea,” Misty said back, just as quick, just as sour. Madison didn’t break their eyes when she took another drag. In fact, she was looking her over. Misty’s brow flickered down as she sniffled, eyes rimmed red. At least she wasn’t crying anymore. But she did look rather disheveled, sans bra, barefoot, hair a tangled mess. She caught Madison swallowing and frowned. 

“Whatever,” she sighed, defeated as she stared out onto the street. The word sent Misty’s mind reeling. Part of her wanted to ask _what_ , to bark it, so annoyed that Madison had the audacity to maintain a complex inner life. “She must have done _something_ right.” 

“ _What_?” It was softer than she intended, more accommodating. Madison smirked, glancing at her, lazy and superior. 

“The hickeys, dumbass,” she offered, taking a drag, eyes challenging and amused. Misty felt herself flush, her fingers trailing down her neck. 

“It wasn’t Cordelia,” Misty offered before she realized what she was saying. The blush deepened, but Madison didn’t look over at her. “Like I said, she ain’t like that,” she pushed, firmer this time. Madison just raised her brow, skeptical. Something about it made Misty think that Madison _knew_ something about Cordelia that she didn’t, and it turned her stomach. Mercifully, she didn’t elaborate. “It was me, alright?” 

Madison paused, glancing at her. Misty swallowed, looking down. 

“I freaked out,” she admitted through gritted teeth. And then she was just _talking_ like Madison wasn’t even there. “She’s gentle with me, ya know, an’ accommodatin’. She just looked so goddamn scared when I…” she sighed, snubbing out her cigarette on the steps. “I couldn’t even look at her.” 

A heavy silence settled between them, but Misty felt a little lighter anyway. Madison put out her cigarette beside Misty’s, licking her swollen, bloody lip. It was already starting to bruise. She lit another, and then offered Misty a second. She took it. Her own knuckles were starting to get a little stiff, a little swollen. She’d hit her hard.

“I was raped a few years ago,” Madison said, so evenly, so plainly. Misty’s chest tightened, her vision spotting black for a brief moment as heat flushed to her cheeks. Hesitantly, she glanced over at Madison. She was circling her thumb around the filter of her cigarette. “Bunch of fucking frat boys,” she almost laughed, bitter and disgusted. Then she swallowed, her breathing growing shallow for a long, terrible moment. 

And Misty realized, bile rising in her throat, that Madison had _known_ all along why she was crying. Had figured it out from the hickeys on her neck and the way she’d reacted to Madison’s comments about sex. She knew Cordelia would _never_ , so there was only one reasonable conclusion left, born from a kind of shared experience. 

“Madison, I’m…” 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she hissed with a dangerous chuckle. Alarmed, Misty noted tears stinging in Madison’s eyes. But she stayed quiet, taking a long drag of her cigarette and tapping the ashes. It was all much fresher for Madison than it was for Misty, and Misty _still_ had trouble letting anyone touch her. For all Madison’s crass bravado, she was hurting just as fiercely. 

“For sayin’ ya don’t care, ya sure do care quite a lot,” Misty offered, temporarily overlooking Madison’s vulgar comments about Cordelia’s kinks, among other unsavory remarks. Surprisingly, some of her words, her actions, had been strangely... _caring_. And for the moment, Misty chose to focus on those. 

“Don’t push it,” Madison warned, taking a drag. Misty almost smiled then, and Madison followed. “She may be a whiny, pathetic bitch,” she offered entirely seriously, “but so are you, so I guess it works out.” 

That was a high compliment for Madison, and Misty made sure not to break whatever delicate thing was budding between them, some understanding, a mutual respect they hadn’t had before. Madison took another drag as light spilled out over them.

“Misty?” It was Cordelia, her voice hesitant. She was wearing a robe, cinched tightly at the waist, her arms folded over her middle. “Can we talk?” Madison took that as her cue, standing up and turning. 

“Hey, your cigarettes,” Misty rushed, holding up the pack and lighter to her. 

“Keep ‘em,” she said dismissively. Lamely, Misty set them back down as Madison breezed past her. And as she stepped into the entryway light, Cordelia’s expression fell. 

“Jesus, Madison, your face,” she breathed, unfolding her arms and reaching out to touch her. Madison ducked out of her reach and slipped past her. 

“Fuck off, Cordy,” she called behind her, throwing up a middle finger. Misty almost laughed, comforted by Madison’s return to callousness. Cordelia sighed, turning back to Misty. 

“Can I sit with you?” she asked, and Misty nodded. The light behind her faded as Cordelia closed the front door and sat where Madison had been. “I didn’t know you smoked,” she said curiously, hands in her lap. Misty wouldn’t admit it in that moment, but the sound of Cordelia’s voice felt like heaven to her tired ears. 

“I don’t,” she countered, letting the cigarette dangle between her fingers, forearms on her knees. Cordelia watched her carefully, watched the cigarette, and then her eyes caught the knuckles holding them. 

“Please tell me you didn’t do that to Madison,” Cordelia sighed, and Misty swallowed, self-consciously covering her knuckles with her other hand. “Can I…” she trailed off, meeting Misty’s eyes as she held out her hands, warm and waiting. Hesitantly, Misty stuck her cigarette between her lips and gave Cordelia her hand. She closed the gap between them, knees practically brushing. “God, _Misty_ ,” she breathed, almost a reprimand as her fingers trailed across bruising knuckles. Misty hissed when she pressed in lightly, and Cordelia winced with her. 

“It ain’t that bad,” she shrugged, the cigarette bobbing. She took a quick drag and plucked it from her lips with her other hand, blowing smoke away from Cordelia. She seemed... _frozen_ and worried in a way that made Misty feel terrible. “Really, Cordelia, I’ve had worse. _Madison_ has worse.” 

“You’re not making me feel any better,” Cordelia pointed out, a pained smile tugging at her lips. It didn’t meet her eyes. Misty looked away, unable to help her let alone herself. They were quiet for a long moment, Cordelia cradling Misty’s injured hand in her own. Then she leaned over Misty’s knees and grabbed the cigarette from her, bringing it to her lips. 

“Should I ask?” Misty drawled. Cordelia shook her head, exhaling. 

“Do you know how many packs of cigarettes I confiscate from underage girls every month?” 

“An’ ya smoke ‘em all?” Misty asked, her voice rising as she leaned away to really look at Cordelia, as if seeing her in a new light. 

“No, god, no,” Cordelia chuckled. “I usually give them to Madison. If Myrtle were alive I’d give them to her. I’ve long abandoned my _smoking is bad for you_ speech.” 

“I can see that,” Misty said, letting herself laugh.

“Smoking is really bad for you, Misty,” she said then, trying to look stern, smoke rolling from her lips. Misty hummed, playing along, preoccupied with the way she let the cigarette dangle between two fingers, her thumb pressed to the end of the filter. It looked natural, easy, confident. And she was surprised, genuinely, to find how quickly she was stirred back to enjoying physical touch. She was afraid she wouldn’t want it, that it would remind her too much of being touched elsewhere. But Cordelia’s thumb trailing rhythmically across her hand was the salve she didn’t know she needed. 

She watched Cordelia take another long drag and bit the inside of her cheek. “Hey, Delia, I’m real sorry ‘bout jumpin’ away from you like that,” she breathed, chin down. Cordelia blew out smoke in a thick stream and turned to her. 

“I swear, if you apologize to me one more time I’ll start crying,” she warned, the last wisps of smoke curling from her mouth. Something shot through Misty, hot and cold at the same time, her brows knotted. That’s when she noticed Cordelia’s red rimmed eyes, the unsteadiness of her gaze. She was serious. She’d already _been_ crying. 

“I thought it’d be okay,” she offered gently then grimaced, looking down. That wasn't the truth. “Well, I hoped so, anyway.” The words sunk slowly into Cordelia, and Misty watched her swallow and put out the cigarette. She took a shaky breath then turned back to Misty. 

“Why did you...if you _knew_ ,” she said, leaning forward to try and find Misty’s eyes. “Did _I…_ ” 

“ _No_ , Cordelia,” Misty breathed quickly. “I didn’t say it jus’ ‘cause I knew you wanted to. I said it ‘cause I thought...I _should_ want it. An’ I trust you, an’ it’s _supposed_ to feel good. I mean, that’s _sex_ ,” she offered, though it sounded much less logical coming from her mouth than it sounded in her head. 

“ _Misty_ ,” Cordelia whispered. “Hey, look at me.” Reluctantly, shame burning at her cheeks, she did. “Sex isn’t just penetration. Not everyone even _likes_ it. It’s _okay_ not to want it.” The information swirled around her head until it finally settled into a revolutionary sort of understanding. “Can I ask you something? About it.” Misty paused then nodded. “Did it hurt?” 

“Not at first,” she admitted. “It was... _sensitive_ , I guess. Overstimulating, but in a bad way. It was too sharp, but not _actually_ sharp. Nothin’ like when you were goin’ down on me. That was...you were…” she stopped, flustered, and Cordelia’s lips quirked up, just enough to send a blush to Misty’s cheeks. “Probably ain’t much help.” 

“It is,” Cordelia encouraged. “It makes sense, actually.” Misty frowned, wondering what she was trying to sleuth out. “You were thinking about the past, weren’t you?” she asked delicately, and Misty tensed next to her. 

“Just right at the end. After it started feelin’ real bad,” she admitted. “How’d you know?” 

“Your _eyes…_ ” she trailed off. “You looked like you were somewhere else.” Misty bit hard on her cheek, looking down. 

“Why’re you askin’?” 

“I wanted to know if it felt bad because you weren’t present with me or you weren’t present because it didn’t feel good,” she explained, and Misty looked up at her. She hadn’t been in the right headspace to even think that there _could_ be a distinction. “Misty, you have some scar tissue,” she told her gently, and Misty blushed deeply, pulling her hand away in a moment of panic. She couldn’t think about that right now. Cordelia sat quietly next to her, listening to Misty breathe. “I just...I think that’s why it’s so sensitive. Why it hurts. You were definitely wet enough. And I know you liked when I went down on you,” she almost laughed, biting her lip. Then there was a warm hand on her back, rubbing up and down in soothing circles. “If fingering is something you want to work on later, I’d be happy to do that with you. If you don’t want anything inside you ever again, that’s completely fine. If you think having sex in general is too much for you, we don’t have to do it.” 

Cordelia’s hand on her back, her gentle words, meant more to Misty than she could say. She swallowed, sitting up a bit. Cordelia moved with her. 

“That seems a bit extreme,” she conceded, hazarding a glance in Cordelia’s direction. “No sex?” she teased quietly, and Cordelia’s mouth fell open, searching her eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment before Cordelia broke and laughed, a smile growing on her cheeks. Misty giggled with her, and Cordelia pulled her close, pressing her lips to Misty’s cheek. Then she rested her forehead against Misty’s temple, the stillness easing the tension from her body. 

“God, Misty, I just wanna make you cum,” she whined, nuzzling into her, and Misty felt a wave of heat wash over her. 

“ _Yeah_?” she offered, unable to think of anything clever to add. Cordelia pulled back to look at her. 

“I wanna make you feel good,” she drawled then smiled, leaning forward to kiss her temple. “I wanna make your toes curl,” she whispered there with a grin dancing in her voice, and Misty remembered the way Cordelia had moaned her name on the bathroom counter. “And I will do whatever you need me to to get you there.” 

_Whatever you need._

Misty tensed. She didn’t mean to. Cordelia let her arm slide down from around Misty’s shoulders and frowned. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m just...thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ Madison said.” 

“You’re thinking about Madison right now?” Cordelia asked. She wasn’t necessarily upset, just curious, maybe a bit annoyed. 

“It’s nothin’, really. She was jus’ tryin’ to get under my skin. So I punched her,” Misty offered as if that would settle the issue. It just made Cordelia more interested, and it didn’t take much to connect the dots anyway. 

“You punched Madison because she said something about _me_?” Now Cordelia was actually upset. Misty winced.

“Not exactly. Well, sort of, but it ain’t _true_ , so…” 

“ _Misty_ ,” she said, voice low. It was a tone Cordelia reserved for Madison, usually, and it shook her enough to get a partial truth out of her. 

“She was tryin’ to rile me up talkin’ ‘bout all these kinks you have an’ guessin’ which one must’a scared me off,” she said, dismissive. Something cold settled across Cordelia’s features. 

“That is so wildly inappropriate I can’t...I can’t believe she’d put that in your head. Madison says a lot of _shitty_ things, but that is a line I suppose I was _delusional_ enough to believe she wouldn’t cross.” Part of Misty wanted to defend Madison, to tell Cordelia she couldn’t have known how it would affect Misty. But the problem was that she had known. She knew exactly what she was saying and exactly who she was saying it to. “Misty, I would never just spring anything on you like that. That’s something you discuss _outside_ the bedroom,” Cordelia assured her, but the thought wasn’t actually that comforting. Maybe Madison hadn’t been lying. Misty furrowed her brow. 

“What _are_ you into?” she asked then, and Cordelia’s eyes shot to hers. They were quiet for a moment as Cordelia leaned forward on her knees. 

“Do you actually wanna talk about this right now?” 

“I’m curious,” she shrugged. 

“That’s not an answer.” 

Misty sighed, looking down at her feet. She was close to pushing herself too far again, and _again_ she found herself unable to stop. “Madison mentioned bein’ tied up,” she said, meeting Cordelia’s eyes. There was a long pause between them as Cordelia considered her. 

“Sometimes,” she admitted evenly, watching Misty’s blank reaction. 

“Choked?” 

“Gently, with the right person,” Cordelia told her firmly. Misty swallowed. The thought made her feel inexperienced, inadequate, and she pushed down images of Hank doing those things to her instead. “Is that all Madison said?” 

“No.”

“Do you want to ask me about it?” 

“ _No_.” 

“Okay,” she breathed, a gentle hand on Misty’s knee. “You know I don’t need that to be happy with you,” she assured. “And I certainly don’t need you to push yourself into anything for me. But if you wanna talk more about it later, we can. Alright?” Misty nodded, looking up to meet her eyes. “What’re you thinking about?” she asked, her voice gentle. 

“Hank,” Misty admitted, maybe too quickly. 

Cordelia sighed, her grip tightening on Misty’s knee. “ _Hey_ ,” she breathed, a hand reaching up to hold her jaw before she could turn away, tender, steady, reassuring. “I am not making any concessions to be with you. Don’t even think it, okay?” she whispered, her other hand coming up to Misty’s face. Cordelia’s thumbs swiped along the apples of her cheeks, eyes swimming with affection. 

“I ain’t too boring for ya?” 

“Misty,” she chuckled, “trust me, I don’t make those—frankly, _obscene_ —noises for just anyone,” she grinned, resting their foreheads together. Misty blushed against her, pressing in. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes,” she breathed quietly. As soon as she said it, Cordelia leaned in and kissed her. It was hot and desperate, and it surprised Misty so much she nearly whimpered into her mouth. She tasted like tobacco and toothpaste, smelled like the shampoo they’d shared. Then Cordelia’s hand slid back into Misty’s hair. She gathered a handful in her fist near Misty’s scalp and tugged, hard. Misty gasped, her head falling back, something low and choked rolling up her throat. Warmth washed over her, tingling under her skin as Cordelia hummed, satisfied, leaning down to press her mouth to Misty’s throat. As soon as Misty’s eyes fluttered, Cordelia pulled away, gently untangling herself from her hair. “What was that for?” Misty mumbled, dazed as she tilted her head back down to look at Cordelia, something shimmering between them. 

“To prove to yourself you aren’t boring,” she mused, biting on her lip to keep from grinning. Surprised, Misty paused, a smile tugging at her mouth.

“How’d ya know I’d like that?”

“Because you told me,” Cordelia said simply. Misty frowned. “In the bathroom, on the counter,” she offered, and Misty remembered, then. She remembered Cordelia clinging to her, moaning low and gasping into Misty’s ear. Her nails scraped bare shoulder blades and slid up to wet hair, tangling, tugging. Misty felt warm and loose, and she twisted her fingers, thrusting hard into Cordelia who cried out, Misty’s name tumbling broken from her lips. And she remembered Cordelia apologizing, and Misty, caught in a foggy arousal, told her she liked it. And she did, god, she’d liked it a lot, heat shooting between her legs.

“Right,” Misty swallowed, meeting Cordelia’s gaze. She seemed to be able to tell where her mind had been because she smiled, swallowing down a laugh and shifting her gaze away.

And Misty couldn’t help but wonder what else she might be okay with the more she let herself explore. She felt she was at the beginning of something, and Cordelia was right there next to her, ready to jump. Though she couldn’t help but worry, all at once, about what would happen when she stumbled on something she couldn’t handle, had to push away like tonight. She’d almost forgotten that Cordelia had been crying. Misty didn’t know how to process her all alone in that bed, tears dripping down her cheeks, after Misty stumbled out like a startled ghost. 

“What if this happens again?” Misty asked then, quietly, looking to Cordelia who took a breath and shook her head. 

“Then we work through it again. Together, maybe?” she offered, and Misty swallowed, nodding. Then Cordelia bumped shoulders with Misty, and she let herself sway away and back into her, a smile teasing at her lips. “What do you think about spending next weekend at your place in the swamp? Just me and you. I can take off early Friday, and we can be out there by dinner.” 

As the words sunk in, a grin split Misty’s cheeks. “Really?” 

“Yes, _really_ ,” Cordelia laughed, reaching over to hold Misty’s hand, warm and soft. 

“I’d love that, Delia,” she breathed, squeezing. She hadn’t been back in far too long, and she didn’t realize she was starting to miss it so much until Cordelia said anything. Pools of brown sparkled back at Misty like she was absolutely _everything_ to her, and Misty believed it as easily and gently as breathing. 

The following evening in the minutes before dinner, Misty realized too late that she should have been very worried about that particular meal. She’d met Cordelia in the kitchen as the girls were setting the table, all too ready to kiss her cheek and tell her she missed her, but Cordelia seemed distracted, tense. “What is it?” she asked immediately as Cordelia bit her nail, glancing into the dining room. 

“You hit Madison really hard,” she whispered, finally meeting Misty’s eyes. “I’ve been avoiding—well, we’ve been avoiding each other, but seeing her jaw in the light... _Misty_.” 

She frowned, turning to see Madison at the table, scrolling through social media. Her jaw was bruised deep red, her lip busted and scabbed over. “Shit,” she breathed, glancing down at her knuckles. They’d been purple all day, stiff and painful as she tried to avoid moving her fingers too much. It ended up being considerably difficult since it was her dominant hand. “Wait, why’ve ya been avoidin’ her?” 

“I’m trying not to say something I’ll regret,” Cordelia breathed dangerously, and Misty couldn’t decide if she wanted to let a laugh bubble through her or to restrain Cordelia in her office until dinner was over. 

“Christ almighty,” Misty muttered, glancing between the two offending parties. “Let it go. No lastin’ trauma, I promise.” 

“I’m too easy on her,” Cordelia said instead. “She always gets away with terrorizing the girls. I will _not_ let her do the same to my _girlfriend_ ,” she said firmly, lilting into a whine at the end, something tender seeping in. Though Misty nearly melted at the use of the term, she made sure not to let it show, something more pressing coming to mind. 

“Didn’t we have a whole conversation about how I can take care of myself?” she insisted. “It was taken care of. _Last night_.” 

“ _You’re right_ ,” Cordelia said, finally looking at her. “No, you’re right,” she conceded with a nod. “Come on, let’s eat.” 

The coven had grown too large to eat meals with every member, so dinner times were usually staggered, the last of which reserved for the oldest and the council. So when Misty and Cordelia sat, Cordelia at the head of the table and Misty next to her, they were the last to arrive. Misty had had a conversation with a scandalized but overly excited Coco earlier in the day about her _fight_ with Madison, having put two and two together after seeing their respective injuries. So it was safe to assume the entire coven was aware of what happened at this point. Conversation started slowly, hesitantly, as they ate, and Misty despised the tension. She could feel it under her skin like spiders. 

“How’s the hand?” Queenie asked, the first to bring it up, amused and curious. 

“Hell- _lo_?” Madison chimed in, offended, “How’s the _face_ ,” she said, motioning to herself. 

“Bitch, if you had stopped complaining about it for even five minutes I would’a thought you died. I know how your damn face is,” she pointed out, turning to Madison sitting next to her.

“That’s like worrying about whether a murderer pulled a muscle stabbing someone to death,” Madison exclaimed, her fork clattering. 

“I really don’t think that’s the same thing,” Zoe added, taking a drink of her water. 

“No one asked you,” Madison scoffed, and Misty could feel the air between them all simmering. She clenched her fork in her nondominant hand. 

“Ladies!” Cordelia exclaimed then, and the table fell silent. “We all know what happened. It’s over now. Let’s move on.” Slowly, they all started eating again, the sound of silverware clinking on plates deafening between them. 

“At least Swampy’s got immunity,” Madison muttered. 

“Excuse me?” Cordelia said, her voice strong and dangerously amused. “Have I punished you, at all? In any way?” Madison didn’t answer, but she didn’t break eye contact either.

“Cordelia, that’s enough,” Misty said, a hand on her forearm. 

“Was that a threat?” Madison laughed then, and Misty could feel Cordelia barely restraining herself under Misty’s soothing hand. 

“It was a warning. I am sick and tired of you harassing the girls at my school.” 

“Jesus, she’s really got you on a leash, doesn’t she?”

“Madison, would you shut up, already?” Misty snapped at her across the table, accusing and exasperated and louder than she intended. Madison glanced at her, that blatant disrespect and careless swagger flickering, for a moment, under Misty’s desperation. She licked her swollen lip and shifted, her back hitting the chair like a petulant child. When she picked up her fork it was too frustrated, too bitter, but she stayed silent. The surprise that resonated around the room after that was blinding. Misty focused on her food, knowing Cordelia was probably wondering what the _hell_ had happened last night that led to her and Madison suddenly having wordless conversations across the dinner table. 

“So, how was everyone’s day?” Mallory asked then with her wonderful talent of graceful deflection. 

After dinner, Madison was the first to dump her plate in the sink, and Misty chased after her, catching her just outside the kitchen and spinning her around. “Hold up,” she breathed, dropping her hand as soon as Madison sighed, folding her arms over her chest. “What the hell was that? You baited her.”

“She’s easy to bait,” she offered back, a breezy smile wavering on her lips. “Rein in your bitch, Swampy.” 

“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole.”

“What can I say,” Madison grinned, walking backwards away from Misty. “It’s my brand.” 

Misty sighed up to the ceiling when she was gone. Then with a groan, she clenched her fists and trudged back to the kitchen. Cordelia and Coco were talking against the island, and Misty had half a mind to walk right back out the door. “ _Misty_ ,” Cordelia said, spotting her and tilting her head, motioning her over. It was a quiet request, and Misty, already stretched thin, obliged. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Coco,” she said then, and Coco nodded, ducking out. Misty folded her arms across her chest and stood in front of Cordelia, not letting her touch her. 

“I thought you were gonna let it go,” Misty said, almost a warning.

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let her get to me like that. I promised I wouldn’t,” she admitted, shaking her head. Misty frowned, realizing then why Madison had been behaving so poorly. She was angry at Cordelia for being Misty’s _person_ , for being there for her, angry that Misty actually had someone to rely on. She knew deep down Madison wanted that, that she felt cheated and alone. It made Misty sad in a helpless sort of way. 

“She’s _angry_.”

“She’s always angry,” Cordelia scoffed. 

“Not like this,” Misty corrected, shaking her head. She glanced around, making sure they were alone before she continued. “Ya know, despite all the shitty things she said to me last night, some of it was sorta... _kind_ ,” she told her, watching as Cordelia’s expression shifted. “I mean, I decked her _hard_ , an’ she just sat there an’ offered me a cigarette.”

“Why would she…” Cordelia trailed off, confused. It didn’t sound anything like Madison. In fact, it sounded rather generous. Misty chewed at her lip, realizing that Cordelia didn’t know. She supposed it made sense. Why would Madison tell anyone, let alone Cordelia. 

“Flash of empathy, I s’pose,” she shrugged. 

“ _Madison_? Really?” 

“Delia, don’t make me say it,” she sighed, and Cordelia paused, her brow flickering down. The realization came slowly and then all at once. Surprise flashed across her face, and it settled into something deep and aching as she folded her arms protectively over her middle. 

“ _Oh_ , I see,” she said, hoarse and choked.

“I mean, she jus’ said it outta the blue. In some kinda solidarity, I think. I dunno, it was... _nice_. She _understood_ ,” Misty navigated hesitantly, only glancing at Cordelia when she was finished. “She’s just angry that I’ve got someone to help me through it.” And Cordelia didn’t have to tell her that it wasn’t an excuse. They both understood. 

“She doesn’t need to carry that all alone. If she’d come talk to me, I could…”

“You just _threatened_ her in front of everyone…”

“That was not _everyone_ ,” she countered, defensive. 

“Christ, Cordelia, either way, I shouldn’t haveta tell you that just so you don’t stoop to her level,” Misty insisted, a little louder than she intended. Cordelia stopped, biting her lip. 

“You’re right,” she said quietly, all the frustration from dinner melting away. “I’m sorry. It was childish. I didn’t respect your boundaries.” Misty took a deep breath, glancing away, trying to let her own frustration dissipate. 

“I knew I should’a locked you away ‘til dinner was over,” she shook her head, only half teasing, “You’re a menace.”

“ _I’m_ a menace,” Cordelia chuckled, pointing to herself in disbelief. Misty nodded as Cordelia took a step forward. “What were you gonna do? Chain me to my desk?” 

“You know, I think ya would’a liked it a little too much,” Misty countered, and Cordelia laughed, sweeping Misty into her arms. “I’m upset with you,” she warned. 

“I know you are, honey,” she breathed, arms tight around the small of her back. 

“You can’t fix everything, Cordelia,” Misty insisted, her hands resting against Cordelia’s collarbones, tapping a soft rhythm. She sobered, for a moment, and then nodded. 

“I know,” she whispered, eyes flickering across Misty’s face. Satisfied with the simplicity of her answer, Misty leaned forward to kiss her, soft and full, and then pulled out of her embrace. 

“I’ll see ya bright an’ early for breakfast,” she assured her, her hand lingering on Cordelia’s skin. She could have spent the rest of the evening with her, curled in a blanket reading. But Cordelia disappointed her tonight, just a little. She seemed to be able to sense it. “Night, Delia.” 

“Goodnight, Misty.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm convinced Misty had to work very hard to learn to be kind after what she went through. Also Cordelia means well, but sometimes she gets a little hot headed and defensive when she's feeling threatened/protective. As for Madison?? She's definitely got some...unhealed wounds. 
> 
> Anyway this story is meandering through a bunch of issues and is turning out much differently than I intended, but I hope you're still enjoying it! The weekend at the swamp is going to be the conclusion to this story, but I'm thinking about doing a short-ish fic on when Misty came back from hell, keeping it within the "universe" I've created here.


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was lying to myself when I said I could write a weekend getaway in two chapters. Disclaimer for strap ons, but I don’t think a warning is necessary.

Cordelia could deal with anger. She’d dealt with it from Fiona all her life, suffering through her cruel dismissals and petty scrapes and the words that cut deep and festered. It took her many painful years, but eventually she could take whatever bitterness Fiona threw at her and crush it into dust she could sweep so casually into the garbage. Very few things could hurt Cordelia anymore besides herself. But she found that Misty’s quiet, sad disapproval was infinitely worse than Fiona’s cruelty. 

So, as if wounded, Cordelia granted herself an evening of self pitying, mostly reproachful, reflection. And in the day following their argument, she did try to make up for her missteps. It started at breakfast, waiting impatiently for Misty to arrive like she promised she would. They were both early risers, so she was thankful that no one else in the coven would have to witness Cordelia’s anxious habits. She’d already wiped down the counters and straightened the spice rack twice by the time Misty stumbled in, bleary eyed and puffy from sleep. 

And then Cordelia made her breakfast in the morning sun, eggs sizzling in a pan, and told her abruptly that she was so sorry, _again_ , and that she should have listened when Misty said to drop it. That she was too protective, and she’d let Madison stir her up so needlessly. Sensing something frantic in Cordelia, Misty stood up from her seat and hushed her with a soft kiss to her cheek and a hand running gently down her back. 

“Hey, baby, I know,” she whispered, and Cordelia, with all the tension running through her, nearly cried at the pet name. “Just trust me, next time.” 

“Should I talk to Madison?” She leaned back against Misty at the stove. Misty kissed her shoulder and then rested her chin there, sighing. 

“Only if you’re not doin’ it outta pity.” 

The words bounced around her head all day. She was _angry_ at Madison for fucking with Misty in a particularly vulnerable state. And she was angry that she’d roped Cordelia into a public humiliation at dinner. Come to think of it, hardly a day went by when she wasn’t irritated with Madison for something. But she was family, and it was Cordelia’s responsibility to look after her whether she wanted it or not. So when Madison dragged herself into Cordelia’s office late that afternoon, she’d had time to prepare for anything the girl could throw at her like a disappointing game of chess. 

“Look,” she sighed, not closing the door and leaning back against the wall, arms folded over her chest. “Let’s just skip the bullshit. You want me to apologize. It’s not gonna happen.” 

“Actually, Madison,” Cordelia breathed, leaning forward on her desk. “I asked you here so I could apologize to _you_.” Something flickered behind Madison’s eyes as she shifted. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you, especially in front of our friends.” 

“ _Our_ friends?” Madison scoffed. “We’re not exactly best buds.” 

“I know,” she conceded. “But we’ve been through a lot together. You’ve been there since the beginning. We built _good_ lives here. I’ve seen how much you’ve grown, even if you might not.” 

“You don’t even _like_ me,” Madison snapped. 

“You infuriate me,” Cordelia offered instead. “All the time, I find myself...disappointed in you.” She watched Madison look away, uncomfortable. “Because I know you can do better.” She paused when Madison’s jaw twitched, something vulnerable peeking through. “You know, Misty wouldn’t tell me what you said, but she made it seem like you were there for her. In your own way. So thank you, for that,” Cordelia said, wanting to make sure Madison didn’t suspect that she knew about the thread connecting her and Misty. 

“Whatever,” she muttered, looking down. 

“I’m _serious_.”

“You’re always fucking serious,” Madison mumbled before turning and walking out the door, closing it harshly behind her. Cordelia sat there, for a moment, staring at the place Madison had been. And then she groaned, pressing her forehead into her desk. 

By Friday morning, her argument with Misty was long forgotten, long forgiven, and Cordelia spent the early hours trying not to daydream about finally sharing a bed with Misty again, about waking up in a warm tangle. They hadn’t slept, really _slept_ , together since before they started dating. She smiled to herself, barely awake but dressed for the day. There was a steaming mug of coffee at the table in front of her, and her glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose as she read the paper, anything to keep her mind from wandering. 

That was when Misty bounded into the room, barefoot in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy tee shirt. “Morning, sunshine,” she grinned, coming up next to Cordelia and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Cordelia laughed, melting to a hum as her arm came up over Misty’s across her chest. 

“Hi, honey,” she mumbled, kissing her arm. “You’re in a good mood.” 

“It’s a good day,” Misty offered, kissing her hair and then her cheek, pressing in hard. It was too early for most of the other residents of Miss Roubichaux’s to be up yet, and Cordelia reveled in the way the soft morning sun radiated off Misty through the windows. She nearly glowed. “So when’re we leaving, exactly?” 

Cordelia checked her watch. “Misty, it’s 7 am. Maybe two. Probably three.” Misty groaned, and Cordelia, exasperated and amused, pulled at her arm and then her shirt and then her waist until Misty was falling across her lap. “Patience, sweetheart,” she breathed, intertwining her fingers low over Misty’s hip. Misty wrapped an arm around her shoulders, head resting against hers, finger trailing delicately across the shell of her ear. And Cordelia leaned forward and grabbed her coffee, sipping quietly. “Are you gonna be this clingy all weekend?” she mumbled, and Misty pulled playfully at her ear, tugging Cordelia’s head sideways. 

“ _Hey_ ,” she whispered, kissing her temple below her glasses, letting her fingers trail down her neck. “Maybe I am. Is that a problem?” 

“Definitely not,” Cordelia sighed as she turned her head to kiss Misty. It was going to be a good few days. 

“You two are so cute!” a voice squealed from the doorway, and they broke to find Coco and Mallory padding in the kitchen in their pajamas. Cordelia blushed, eyes shifting away, but Misty just smiled brightly at her and then their friends, squeezing Cordelia’s shoulder. 

“When’re you guys leaving?” Mallory asked, moving immediately to the coffeemaker as Coco rested her elbows on the counter. 

“Oh, two. Maybe three,” Misty mocked, and Coco hummed. 

“Noncommittal. That’s a red flag,” she pointed out, and Cordelia scoffed, her hand tightening possessively on the back of Misty’s hip. 

“Very unimpressive,” Mallory chimed in as she trailed over to them with her coffee. Though there was something sparkling in her eyes that Cordelia caught briefly. It was soft and supportive, proud almost, knowing she’d had a hand in bringing Misty back, in bringing them _together_. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Cordelia huffed, looking between them over her glasses. “I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but you do remember I said no parties. That means no drinking in the house when the younger girls are awake either. And if you all decide to go out, I need at least one of you to stay with the kids. Which reminds me. Lights out for them at _midnight_. If they stay up too late it throws off their whole sleep schedule for the week, and I end up lecturing to a bunch of zombies on Monday,” she said firmly to both Coco and Mallory before taking a long drink of her coffee. 

“I’m gonna be honest, I only caught like 60% of that,” Coco offered without much remorse. “You’re a lot less intimidating with your girlfriend in your lap.” 

The comment startled Cordelia for a moment. She wanted to be offended, and a part of her was embarrassed at the public display of intimacy, but mostly she was just _proud_ , stopping a grin in the back of her throat and setting down her coffee to hide it. Perhaps feeling the same, Misty’s hand came up from her shoulder to hold the side of Cordelia’s head, kissing her hair. 

“Don’t worry, I got it,” Mallory sighed, patting Coco on the back. 

“Thank you,” Cordelia said accusingly to Coco then turned to Mallory, her expression softening to encompass something far beyond the bounds of that kitchen. “ _Thank you_.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine without you, Miss Supreme,” Misty mumbled, leaning down to pepper kisses to her cheek, a hand cupping her jaw. Cordelia tried to squirm away, embarrassed, but her fingers edged under Misty’s sleep shirt anyway. 

“You’re such a handful,” Cordelia sighed then turned to kiss her on the mouth, a quick, loving peck. 

“Have I mentioned how cute you guys are yet?” Coco wondered, and Cordelia rolled her eyes, but she _loved_ it. She loved it more than she could say. Loved that Misty was displayed so tenderly on Cordelia’s lap in front of their friends, loved that Coco called Misty her girlfriend, loved how much Misty _adored_ her.

Cordelia finished the work she needed to do just before one, scrubbed her hands down her face to shake the week’s tension from her body, and made her way up to her bedroom to pack a bag. Naturally, Misty found her there soon after, knocking lightly on the doorframe. 

“Went by your office an’ you weren’t there,” she offered, trailing in, glancing around at the small suitcase Cordelia had laid out on her bed. “I packed some food in a cooler, but I’m thinkin’ we should go to the store an’ get some fresh fruit and booze.” 

“Fine by me,” Cordelia said, folding a shirt into her suitcase. Then Misty flopped down on her stomach on Cordelia’s bed, her legs dangling off as she watched Cordelia move around her room. 

“I could barely keep still all week,” Misty laughed, biting into her lip as she fiddled with her rings. Cordelia glanced at her, her eyes sparkling, the air buzzing around her. “I ain’t been back in a few months. Not since we’ve been together.” 

The thought made Cordelia pause, not having linked those two things in her mind before. Had they been dating that long? She stopped, a pair of pants dangling in hand. “Misty, when...when did I kiss you?” 

“That first time?” Misty clarified, and Cordelia hummed, slowly folding the pants, trying to _remember_. “Least two months ago. Three at most.” She looked at Misty then, really looked at her, blue eyes staring so attentively, so adoringly, at brown. Something passed between them in the quiet air of Cordelia’s bedroom. Disbelief maybe, but in an easy, calm, _comfortable_ sort of way. “Feels like we’ve been doin’ this forever,” Misty smiled, popping her leg and rolling her ankle, her eyes never breaking from Cordelia. It was said like a secret, low and gentle, and Cordelia trailed her fingers across the fabric of her clothes, biting her lip. 

“Also no time at all,” she offered, blinking and shrugging. Misty hummed, biting her own lip, fighting back a smile as she bounded up and tripped her way across Cordelia’s bed, stumbling off it in front of her. Cordelia grabbed her arm to steady her, Misty’s breathing uneven as she brushed her long hair away. 

“Maybe we should pick a date. Think about havin’ like an anniversary. Ain’t that what people do?” she asked, breath coming out against Cordelia’s face. The thought that Misty anticipated them being together long enough to celebrate an anniversary made Cordelia’s heart swell, a laugh bubbling from her as she trailed her hand down Misty’s arm to intertwine their fingers. 

“I would love that,” she breathed, and Misty beamed, swaying forward until their noses brushed. Cordelia wasn’t strict or even overly enthusiastic about anniversaries, but if Misty liked them, Cordelia would happily participate. 

“Alright, come on,” Misty encouraged, squeezing Cordelia’s hand then breaking contact, turning to her dresser. “What d’ya need yet? Shirts? Undies?” 

“You’re eager,” Cordelia laughed as Misty opened and closed her drawers, glancing through her clothes.

“Not eager, just…” she trailed off, and Cordelia glanced over at her, staring into her bottom drawer. With a jolt, Cordelia remembered what was in there and set down the shirt she was folding.

“You weren’t...supposed to find those.”

“Your dicks?” Misty asked, turning to glance at her with a sly smile. Cordelia laughed at the absurdity of the phrase, any worry she had about Misty’s reaction dissipating as she stepped next to her. And then they were both staring down into a drawer of dicks.

“Well, one of them’s a vibrator, actually,” Cordelia corrected, hands on her hips, and Misty turned to look at her. 

“You got a harness in there. I didn’t take Hank as the type,” she offered simply, and Cordelia scoffed. 

“ _Please_. I did get a finger in his ass once though. _Once_ ,” she said, forcing down a laugh. Misty grinned with her, biting hard on her lip. “Though I did have a sex life between you and him, you know,” Cordelia told her quietly, and she could see that Misty had forgotten just how much time passed between her death and her resurrection. Time was different in hell, Cordelia had gathered, and Misty had been down there for so _long_ it was easy to lose track. A sadness flickered and faded behind her eyes, and then it was gone. 

“So which d’ya like better? Giving or receiving?” she asked abruptly, tracking Cordelia’s eyes as they widened. But Misty seemed at ease, even a bit amused, and it was a pleasant surprise.

“With a strap on? Receiving. Giving, I’m better without toys,” she mused, glancing briefly at Misty whose eyes fluttered away, a hint of pink on her cheeks. “How would you feel about bringing it this weekend?” Misty’s eyes shot to hers. “Not on...well, you, obviously. But if you wanted to, you could use it on me,” Cordelia’s voice lilted up to something unsure, a forced kind of casual, near the end. She had to force down the heat swelling in her abdomen at the thought of tightening a harness across Misty’s hips, digging into soft thighs. Misty shifted, swallowing, as she glanced between Cordelia and the dildo. 

“Delia, I barely know what I’m doin’ as it is,” she muttered, pulling at the rings on her fingers. Cordelia bumped their shoulders reassuringly then toed the drawer shut, reaching up to twirl a lock of Misty’s hair around her fingers. 

“Could you grab my toothbrush from the bathroom?” she asked softly, and Misty nodded, trailing away. Cordelia watched her go, could practically feel her mind running in circles from there, but she didn’t seem _upset_ , and it was certainly a step in the right direction. 

When they made it to the grocery store, Misty had been more than happy to wander around sneaking strawberries from their packages and snagging grapes from their vines, begging Cordelia to get just one more snack. _Delia, please_. And Cordelia, every time, said _yes, if that’s what you want, honey, we can get it_. By the time they left, they had more food than they needed, and Misty had practically eaten a whole meal from what she stole from the produce section. Cordelia rolled her eyes fondly, and Misty just grinned at her, wiggling her eyebrows as they unloaded the groceries and finally, _finally_ , got on the road. 

They kept the windows down on the drive, the radio playing in the background as Misty tapped out a rhythm on the outside of the car, her fingers trailing across dusty paint. Every time Cordelia looked over at her, she either had her eyes closed, wind blowing through her curls, or was staring distantly at the marshes around them, lost somewhere in her head. 

The drive wasn’t that long, less than an hour, and the minutes blended together into sweet, carefree nothings, losing herself in the curve of the highway, the green of the marshes. Though the closer they got, the more restless Misty became, turning up the radio when she liked a song then back down when she didn’t, shifting to watch Cordelia, her fingers loose on the steering wheel. She brushed a strand of hair behind Cordelia’s ear, and her eyes flickered to Misty, shooting her a warm smile. 

“Are you excited?” Misty hummed, leaning her head against Cordelia’s shoulder, wedging an ankle under her thigh. 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she laughed, pressing her nose to Cordelia’s skin, chilled from the wind. When they pulled off the main road, Misty nearly bounded up in her seat. The closest they could get in the car was about a quarter mile away. The swamp was a popular fishing spot, and unfortunately a popular place for poaching, so there was a dirt road and a makeshift parking lot not too far away. When Misty hopped out of the car, she took a deep breath and kicked off her shoes, moving to help Cordelia with their things. She slung her duffel bag over her shoulder, and the two of them carried the cooler between them over the footpath to Misty’s place. The sun shone through the canopy in golden rays, cicadas buzzing loudly in Cordelia’s ears. Misty was talking about her garden, how it was probably overgrown with weeds if it hadn’t been suffocated by them already. And Cordelia listened with a fond smile, humming when necessary and trying not to trip over tangled roots and loose rocks. 

Cordelia could feel the sticky beginnings of sweat on her skin by the time they reached the shack, and she tried not to think about what a hot weekend without air conditioning would do to her hair. She was sure it would be frizzy beyond belief by the time they left on Sunday. They made quick work of setting their things inside, and then Misty was back out the door to check on her plants. Cordelia took a breath, glancing around. The place had been updated a little since Misty’s return. She’d gotten her a bigger bed and some more supplies, but the place still didn’t have electricity or running water, and sunlight shone through the wood planks of the walls. Misty relied on well water and an inordinate amount of candles, and while the candles were sort of romantic, the water tasted earthy. Though at least it was cold. Wind chimes sounded through the house, and Cordelia trailed outside to see Misty kneeling next to her garden, already pulling up weeds. 

They spent most of the afternoon like that, kneeling together over zucchinis and berries, chatting about this and that, and when silence fell between them it was overwhelmingly comfortable. Birds chirped around them, and Misty, looking more relaxed than Cordelia had seen her in awhile, glanced up to watch them weave through the canopy. Absently, she wondered what Misty was thinking about, wondered if Cordelia consumed Misty’s thoughts when they were together the way Misty did hers. Part of her considered that she might be diving into dangerous territory there, so much more vulnerable than she’d been in years. And yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Loving Misty was as easy as breathing. 

As the sun crept across the sky, clouds trickled by, and Cordelia could see a storm front in the distance, peeking over the trees. “Misty, does your roof hold up in the rain?” She glanced up, wrist deep in soil as she followed Cordelia’s gaze over the trees. 

“Oh, shit,” she muttered, shaking the dirt from her palms. 

“That wasn’t very reassuring,” Cordelia drawled, crossing her legs under her. Misty smirked at her, blinking as she took a breath and sat back on her heels. 

“Guess you’re gettin’ the full swamp rat experience this weekend,” she said, mirth dancing in her voice, and Cordelia had the sinking suspicion that Misty was all too eager to see her Supreme façade melt away in the rain. As if sensing what Cordelia was thinking, Misty tilted her head, watching Cordelia’s tense shoulders, perfect posture. “I know I carry some shit around with me, but you’re always very…”

“What?” Cordelia shifted, forcing a hesitant laugh, her gaze falling momentarily from Misty’s. 

“ _Tight_ ,” Misty offered, then pressed her finger to her temple. “Up there.” 

“ _Up_ tight,” Cordelia clarified, and Misty’s brow quirked down as she crawled over to her. 

“ _No_ ,” she drew out, teasing. “Just _scared_.” Misty’s smile faded as she searched Cordelia’s face. It fell rapidly. “Gotta learn to let it go.” 

“Let what go?” she asked, trying to sound playful, but her voice just came out quiet. 

“You tell me,” Misty smiled then turned to her garden. “People are like plants. You let ‘em stew in the mud an’ they drown. Let ‘em scorch under a harsh sun an’ they die. But if you love ‘em right, let them rest an’ _heal_ , they always thrive.” Misty’s eyes sparkled when she talked, brimming with gentle encouragement, and when she looked back at Cordelia she could feel her magic billowing between them, warm as it tingled at Cordelia’s skin. It had a strange effect on her, both calming and exciting her to a degree she finally recognized as artificial, at least in the sense that it hadn’t come from _her_. Misty was altering her mood, gently guiding her own hopes and affections into Cordelia’s subconscious, planting a seed there. And when Cordelia’s expression flickered, Misty’s flickered with her. “What’s wrong?” 

“Do you _know_ you’re doing that?” Cordelia was breathless, and Misty sat back on her heels, palms pressed to her thighs. 

“Doin’ what?” Cordelia nearly laughed at Misty’s confusion, overwhelmed and excited at the possibility of Misty’s powers evolving, _growing_ as she did. 

“Tell me something you’re passionate about,” Cordelia said quickly, adjusting on the grass so she could steady herself. She wanted to try something. 

“Delia, what’s goin’ on?”

“Just... _please_ , for me.” Misty eyed her suspiciously for a moment before blinking and settling down in front of her, crossing her legs. 

“Alright,” she drawled then took a deep breath, her shoulders bobbing. “I didn’t think I would, but I’m startin’ to really like teachin’ those girls,” she chuckled, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she spoke. “Green magic’s always been my thing. Long before you taught me all the technical terms for it,” she offered, motioning to Cordelia in front of her. And like a gentle breeze, Cordelia could feel Misty’s shy enthusiasm swelling between them. As she started talking about the simple joys of watching those girls finally _understand_ a spell and to know that _she’d_ been the one to get them there, Cordelia felt something firm and bright take root in her chest. _Pride_. And Cordelia could hear it in her voice, but it was another thing entirely for her to _feel_ what Misty did. There was only a faint separation between her own emotions and the ones Misty had pressed into her, but it had taken a decent amount of concentration to even achieve that. Misty was persistent and strong, much stronger than she had been even a few months ago. Her powers were all encompassing, and Cordelia struggled but ultimately succeeded in blocking herself from them. It was an impressive feat to be able to come that close to overwhelming the Supreme, but Cordelia knew Misty was capable of more. Though she worried about telling her just yet, knowing that being conscious of power was often more of a hindrance than a help, especially right at the beginning. And this certainly was the beginning of something incredibly special. 

“Misty,” Cordelia breathed, and she opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them. Misty stopped short in the middle of a sentence, watching her carefully. “Do it again.” 

“ _What_?”

Cordelia shook her head, looking Misty over with such reverence in her eyes it made Misty frown, made her feel ungrounded. She chewed at her lip and took a breath. “Tell me something you’ve never told me before. Something... _powerful_.” 

“You’re startin’ to freak me out.” 

“You trust me, right?” Cordelia leaned forward to hold Misty’s hands. A light breeze slid between them, raising goosebumps on their skin. 

“Yeah, ‘course I— _Delia_ , what is…”

“Just once more,” she breathed, breaking their hands. Misty sighed, uneasy as she leaned back, holding onto her shins. But then she shifted forward again and settled, nodding briefly. 

“Yeah, alright. Somethin’ powerful?” Cordelia just nodded, and Misty closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. When she opened them, Cordelia could feel something buzzing between them, could feel tendrils of Misty’s magic reaching out, touching Cordelia then recoiling as if burned. It was strange and new, and the harder she tried to catalogue it into magic she knew, the harder it resisted definition. “ _Delia_...when you told me you loved me, I got real scared,” she shook her head, looking down in her lap. A twinge of dread shot down Cordelia’s spine that was entirely her own as she watched Misty fiddle with her jewelry. “I’ve never been in love before. I didn’t know if I _could_ be. An’ it didn’t make sense...that you could love me.” 

Her words were quiet, and Cordelia could feel Misty’s loneliness, her disbelief, deep inside her own chest like a lead weight. She was projecting it, but Cordelia suddenly didn’t have the strength to treat this like a test anymore, to even bother trying to push her out of Cordelia’s head. She just _listened_. 

“I didn’t feel like I deserved it. So I just kept thinking about it ‘til I couldn’t sleep anymore,” she nearly laughed, her eyes flickering up then back down. “Cordelia, you just...swallowed me whole. I kept tryin’ to pin you down in my head, but I couldn’t. You’re just everywhere. Always.” 

A warmth overcame Cordelia then, so blinding it nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. It wasn’t her own. Misty’s lips flickered to a smile as she worried at her lip, meeting Cordelia’s eyes. 

“See, when we first met, I felt like I was comin’ home. Not to that house, not to the tribe I was searchin’ for. To _you_. It was so strange I didn’t know what to make of it. Not ‘til now. You saved my life, Delia. When I was brought back. You _did_. You were there for me when I couldn’t tell ya which way was up and which was down. An’ I’m startin’ to realize I’d dive right off the ends of the Earth for you too. You’ve given me so much. More than I deserve. More than I’d ever dream of askin’ for. Cordelia, I _love_ you. I love you more than anything,” she breathed, shaking her head. 

Cordelia could feel it bursting through her chest, could feel Misty’s love for her like sunshine on her skin or a good morning kiss or a warm, tender embrace. And she could feel Misty’s sweet, settled calm wash over her like a tidal wave, and it said _finally_. _Finally, we’re here._ And Cordelia smiled so wide she thought it might split her cheeks. 

“ _Misty_ , god, I love you. I love you so much,” she whispered desperately, lunging forward and wrapping her arms around Misty. She tumbled back, and Cordelia ended up on top of her, holding her tight. Misty buried her face in Cordelia’s neck and held onto her like she was about to slip away right there in the grass and the dirt and the warm breeze. 

“I love you,” Misty whispered into her hair. 

“I love you back,” Cordelia whispered sweetly, kissing her ear. She could still feel Misty’s magic in her bones, buzzing through her chest and at the tips of her fingers. She was overjoyed, overwhelmed, and feeling so incredibly lucky Cordelia could hardly stand it. She wanted to tell her that she was the lucky one, that if anything, Cordelia didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as Misty. 

“Now would you tell me what all that was about?” she mumbled, and Cordelia gasped out a laugh, gently untangling herself from her as they both sat up. Though in a strange way she felt locked to Misty, like breaking contact would send a jolt of static electricity through them. So, acting more out of instinct than logic, Cordelia climbed onto Misty’s lap. She was delighted, though also mildly confused, to see Misty moving with her as if they’d been having the exact same thought at the exact same time. Absently, Cordelia wondered if the thought had been her own or if it had actually been Misty’s. Figuring that was a question for later, Cordelia tightened her thighs around Misty’s hips, her arms draped over her shoulders as Misty held her lower back. 

“It was about your powers.” Misty looked confused, and Cordelia played absently with her hair, tangling it between her fingers. “I told you they would blossom the more you did.” 

“Was I usin’ ‘em?” Cordelia bit back a smile and nodded, looking into Misty’s hesitant expression. 

“You were using them on _me_. Inadvertently, anyway.” 

“Far as I can tell you’re not a plant, an’ you’re not dead, so I dunno how that’s possible,” Misty offered, amused. 

“I don’t even know how to describe it. You were _projecting_ your emotions onto me. I could feel everything that you were feeling. Of course, I’ve felt your magic before, here and there. But in _flashes_. Never something this...overwhelming.” 

“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.” 

“No, don’t apologize. It’s wonderful. It’s... _amazing_ ,” she laughed, cupping Misty’s cheeks in her palms. “ _You’re_ amazing.” Misty smiled softly, and Cordelia returned it. “That’s why I was asking you to tell me something you feel passionately about. I wanted to see how strong you are, see if I could block it.” 

“Could you?” 

“Not that last bit,” she admitted quietly, her thumbs circling Misty’s soft cheeks. “You’re powerful, Misty. More than you know.” 

“Just wish I could control the weather,” she said, and Cordelia glanced behind them. The storm front was still a ways away, but it would certainly cover them by night. She turned back to Misty and kissed her. 

“No, you don’t,” she mumbled against her lips. 

“No, I don’t,” Misty confirmed. “I like when it storms.” 

“I like watching them from the comfort of a waterproof house,” Cordelia countered, and Misty pinched her sides, delighting in the undignified squeal it pulled from her. 

“Hey now. I won’t tolerate any slander against my shack, ya hear?” she nearly growled, pushing forward until Cordelia was on her back, legs wrapped around Misty’s hips, pulling her down. 

“Is it slander if it’s true?” Cordelia giggled, wrapping her arms around Misty’s neck as her palms pressed to the grass on either side of Cordelia’s head. 

“I never said it ain’t true. Ya just said it with a tone.”

“A tone?” 

“Don’t be smart with me,” Misty laughed, something sharp lingering in the back of her words. Cordelia just grinned, dangerous and teasing as she chewed at her lip. “You’re terrible. _Stop_ that.” 

“Make me,” Cordelia challenged, her heart pounding, breathless with Misty pressed down on top of her. Misty paused, her hair falling into a curtain around them, blocking out the world, the storm on the horizon. Cordelia could feel the muscles in Misty’s abdomen tighten against her. “ _Misty…_ ” 

And then she was leaning down to kiss her, deep and desperate, and Cordelia whimpered, curling her hips up into Misty’s. She shifted forward, lower, creating friction, and all at once Cordelia felt like she was on fire. “Get up,” Misty mumbled against her, pulling back and helping Cordelia to her feet who was already weak at the knees. Hands clasped, they walked inside in a daze, and as soon as they were encompassed by four mostly stable walls, Misty had her up against one of them, _kissing_ her with a kind of firm but decisive passion that Cordelia had only seen in her once before in the greenhouse after she’d been drinking. She moaned into Misty’s mouth, keeping her as close as she could, her skin burning wherever Misty’s touched. 

Cordelia directed them to the bed, warmth settling low in her belly as Misty held her waist with tight hands. Misty stumbled back first with a strangled gasp, pulling Cordelia down on top of her. The bed creaked under them, and Cordelia grunted, the wind knocked out of her. “Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?” Cordelia reached up to trail her fingers along Misty’s jaw as she coughed. And then a laugh sputtered from her lips, and Misty glared halfheartedly at her. 

“Laughin’ at my pain?” 

“No, honey,” she giggled, “Never.” Then Misty was laughing with her, and they were laughing through a sloppy kiss that melted into a moan when Misty grabbed the back of her thigh and positioned her so she was straddling Misty’s hips. Both of them flushed, Misty grabbed the edge of Cordelia’s shirt and pulled it up. She slipped out of it easily, tossing it to the floor, the afternoon sun streaming between the slats in the walls. Cordelia came down quick, kissing Misty hungrily, hands on her cheeks. Breathing heavily, Misty rolled them over so she was on top, and Cordelia gasped under her, reaching up to connect their lips again. “ _Misty_ ,” she mumbled against her, a hand fisting Misty’s shirt and pulling at it. Taking the hint, Misty pulled back on her knees, yanking the shirt over her head in one smooth, very attractive motion. Then she spent the next few seconds pulling off all her rings, one by one, and stuffing them hastily into her pocket. “Fuck, baby,” Cordelia groaned, her legs still around Misty’s hips, rolling them up into the air. Misty grinned and came back down to kiss her, her hands trailing up bare skin and across her chest, pressing in. 

“Never called me baby before,” she mumbled against her, breath hot on her cheeks as she pressed her hips into Cordelia’s. 

“Is that okay?” Cordelia gasped, her voice lilting up, arousal starting to make things a bit foggy around the edges. 

“I like it,” she said, kissing down her neck, sucking hard enough for Cordelia to whine, holding her close. Then in a blur of hands and sliding lips, Misty was pulling her pants down over her hips and Cordelia was kicking them off with a desperate, breathy laugh as Misty sank back down on top of her. Bare skin pressed together, they laid there for a moment, heat radiating between them in the muggy air of the swamp. There was a throbbing between her legs, and Cordelia ground her hips up into Misty’s, soft thighs scraping the material of Misty’s pants. She hummed, pressing her palm into Cordelia’s hip to hold her down, keep her from moving. Then she kissed her, and Cordelia whimpered, sucking Misty's bottom lip between her own, arousal simmering through her. Misty knew what she wanted, and she was taking control.

Though too soon, Misty was pushing herself off Cordelia again, standing up by the edge of the bed to take off her pants. Cordelia followed, on her knees on the bed in front of her, pressing searing open mouthed kisses to her collarbones and the swell of her breasts, hands splayed against Misty’s stomach. She felt Misty’s breathing hitch, a shiver run through her as her jeans hit the floor. Cordelia edged her fingers under the band of Misty’s bra, but Misty’s hand caught her and pulled it down to her side. It was only then that something hesitant flickered behind her eyes, but Cordelia caught it and chased it away with another kiss, her hands coming to cradle her hips instead. When Misty reached around to unclasp Cordelia’s bra, she let her, only struggling for an endearing moment before it came off in her hands. And then she was pressing Cordelia into the bed again, tongue slipping between her lips. 

Misty rolled a nipple between her fingers, and loved, every time, how reactive Cordelia was to it, arching into her, letting her head fall back. And Cordelia, for her part, felt like she was running out of oxygen, clinging to Misty and letting out soft moans when she left marks across her neck. Without air conditioning, their bodies stuck together in odd places, but Cordelia just found it hot, her underwear growing damp. Finally, Misty’s fingers edged under its elastic. “ _Delia_ ,” she moaned faintly into her neck. 

“ _Please_ ,” Cordelia just whined into her shoulder, and Misty pulled them down and tossed them off the bed. “ _Fuck_.” Misty settled lower, kissing across her chest and over the soft skin of her breast, lips closing around a nipple. She sucked, letting go with a soft pop, dragging her teeth over it. Cordelia gasped, fingers tightening around strong arms. As she kissed her way to Cordelia’s other nipple, her hand slid across her stomach and over her hip to her inner thigh, nails scraping lightly. A shiver ran through Cordelia in anticipation. When warm fingers slid through wet folds they both groaned. 

“Scoot up,” Misty mumbled, pulling her fingers back to Cordelia’s dismay. Her hands came down to the back of Cordelia’s thighs and pushed lightly, and it was only then that she processed what Misty had asked of her. Dizzily, she complied, scooting back on her elbows. Though she didn’t realize why Misty wanted her to until she started kissing her way down Cordelia’s stomach. 

“Oh, god, Misty,” she gasped, overwhelmed, and Misty glanced up at her, eyes dark and attentive. “Are you sure?” 

“Very,” she mumbled, kissing the soft flesh below her belly button. Cordelia’s muscles contracted, and she groaned, feeling hot breath on her throbbing clit. Then there was a wet tongue against her, and she moaned, her head falling back. Her movements were slow, languid, and something choked fell from Cordelia’s lips, her hips twitching up. She was aching against Misty’s mouth, so warm and all too soft. 

“ _Harder_ ,” she found herself whining, and Misty complied quickly, her tongue swirling in more defined, firm strokes. Cordelia moaned long and low, Misty’s arms around Cordelia’s thighs to hold her steady. She bucked up into her anyway, though she didn’t seem to mind, moving with her and sucking lightly on Cordelia’s clit. She cried out sharply, a hand snaking into Misty’s hair. Misty sucked harder, and Cordelia hissed, “Ah, _fuck_ ,” and lightly pushed her head away. 

“Sorry. ‘M sorry,” Misty whispered and to Cordelia’s pleasant surprise immediately pressed her tongue back to Cordelia’s clit, her strokes soft and long and so very enthusiastic. She moaned, gathering Misty’s long hair in her hands and holding it, resisting the urge to tug. Her breath came out hot on her clit, and Cordelia gasped, curling up, her head falling back. 

“Oh god, _fuck_ , _Misty_ ,” she moaned, choked, pressure building in her core. “Don’t stop.” 

Misty didn’t dare, marveling at the loud, needy moans that she began pulling from Cordelia. She came hard and fast against Misty’s mouth, her hips bucking and Misty attempting to hold her still. She was almost louder out here in the swamp when students weren’t liable to hear, and Misty could feel heat pooling between her legs at the thought. Cordelia twitched against her, oversensitive, and Misty’s tongue parted from her clit only to be replaced with delicate fingers. 

“Jesus, Misty,” she sighed, one hand fisting Misty’s hair and the other fisting the sheets. 

“You are so fucking hot,” Misty mumbled, kissing her inner thigh. Cordelia chuckled, breathy, but it was cut short when a long finger slipped inside her. She pumped hard, curling up, and Cordelia groaned. When she slipped in a second finger, she moaned sharply, heat shooting through her, still sensitive from her orgasm.

“Oh, fuck, honey,” she moaned, low and drawn out as Misty started up a slow, steady rhythm. She could feel a fresh wave of arousal building in her, and sweat tickled at her skin. “Keep going like that I might not want you to stop,” Cordelia groaned as Misty nipped at her thigh. 

“That’s the idea,” she breathed there, sending a shiver through Cordelia. 

“ _Shit_ ,” she hissed, shaky as Misty curled up hard. “Come ‘ere,” Cordelia mumbled, her eyes fluttering as she let go of Misty’s hair. Keeping her fingers securely buried inside Cordelia, Misty made her way up. Cordelia pulled her close, kissing her hard and fast. Her arousal was wet and sticky across Misty’s mouth and chin, and she moaned at the taste of herself on Misty’s lips. Something choked rolled up Misty’s throat too, and Cordelia tightened around her fingers at the sound. She was always so quiet, so every noise felt special, felt _good_. 

“You taste good,” Misty mumbled against her, and Cordelia laughed, though she felt loose and foggy with arousal, already feeling the beginnings of a second orgasm. Misty’s fingers slowed to a crawl, but Cordelia could still hear just how wet she was. “That feel good?” 

She mumbled something affirmative through hooded eyes. “Gonna make me cum again if you’re not careful.” 

“ _Delia_ , baby,” Misty whispered, something urgent in her voice as she nipped at Cordelia’s jaw. “I gotta tell ya somethin’.” Cordelia wrenched her eyes open even though Misty’s fingers had yet to still. “When you were gettin’ the car ready, I snuck back up to your room an’ took your strap on.” Cordelia’s mind didn’t quite process those words until Misty’s fingers stilled. “Delia?” Her walls fluttered around Misty’s fingers, and her breathing stuttered, barely catching a moan in the back of her throat. 

“Did you grab the lube?” Her voice was breathy, almost lilting to a whine. When Misty nodded, Cordelia ground her hips into Misty’s hand and kissed her, hard. “Are you...do you wanna…” The words seemed impossible to form on her tongue, and Misty slid her fingers out of Cordelia, met with a low moan. 

“Can’t promise I’ll be any good,” she offered, and Cordelia kissed her, frantic and sloppy. 

“Why…” she asked between kisses, and Misty chuckled at her apparent lack of coherency. 

“Kept thinkin’ ‘bout that harness,” she admitted, and Cordelia hummed. 

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” she admitted, her cheeks flushed with arousal. Misty’s were too, heat simmering between them. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” she wondered, worried about Misty’s emotional tolerance for thrusting, for dick. 

“I’ll let ya know if I’m not,” Misty offered, unable to give a better answer. “I want this,” she assured, pressing their foreheads together. Cordelia swiped her nose against Misty’s. 

“Go get it,” she whispered. With seemingly boundless energy, Misty hopped off the bed in her underwear and bra and dug through her duffel bag, quickly coming up with the necessary items. Meanwhile, Cordelia sat up, taking a few deep breaths. There was an aching between her legs so sensitive she could barely press her thighs together without shivering. She wanted to try and last more than ten minutes, but at this rate she’d be lucky to last five. Misty brought everything to the bed for Cordelia to teach her how to use, and she took a breath, still trying to get her heart rate under control. She showed Misty how to attach the dildo to the harness and then directed her into it, one leg at a time. She sat on the edge of the bed in front of Misty, gently tightening the straps to fit her hips. Glancing up at her, she found Misty wide eyed and very still, and Cordelia leaned forward to kiss her stomach. “Too tight?” 

“I don’t think so,” she mumbled, and Cordelia stuck her fingers under each strap to make sure. She adjusted further, tugging on it lightly to ensure it was stable, then leaned back to admire her handiwork. Misty looked incredibly, disarmingly attractive in a strap on, and she chewed at her lip, a smile edging onto her cheeks. 

“You look amazing,” she chuckled, trailing her hands up Misty’s thighs and squeezing her hips. “God, Misty, you’re so hot. How does it feel?” 

“Um, heavy,” she offered. “Weird.” Cordelia hummed, sliding her hand up to wrap around the base of the dildo. Misty twitched away, and Cordelia looked up at her. “Looks like you’re ‘bout to give me a blow job,” she laughed nervously. 

“Do you want me to?” Cordelia asked earnestly, and Misty’s smile fell. She shook her head. “Give me your hand.” Misty did, and she directed it to the dildo, setting it gently on the shaft. “It feels different when it’s on you, I know. Promise it won’t bite,” she assured quietly. Misty’s fingers twitched then gently closed around it. Its only resemblance to an actual dick was the general cylindrical curve, and Cordelia figured that was a blessing for Misty who she wasn’t sure would have been able to handle anything more realistic. Gently, she slid her fingers along the length, exploring. She poked and prodded, to Cordelia’s amusement, and then gripped tight, possessive. 

“I have a dick,” she said then, and Cordelia bit back a laugh. 

“Of sorts. Sit down,” she offered, patting the seat on the bed next to her. Misty sat, watching the dildo wiggle against her stomach. “No one’s good at this the first time. I don’t say that to bruise your ego. I’m actually trying to protect it,” she teased, bumping Misty’s shoulder with her own. She flushed but nodded. “It’s weird and awkward, and if you don’t like it we can stop. Okay?” 

“Alright,” she breathed, and Cordelia leaned over, cupping her jaw and kissing her, soft and sweet. Then she pulled away and laid back on the bed, scooting up. Misty followed, eagerly, and settled mostly on top of Cordelia, wary of the strap on between them now. Cordelia kissed her, deep and full, and arched into her when Misty trailed roughly over a nipple, feeling it pebble under her touch. Then Cordelia pulled Misty’s hand up and sucked two fingers into her mouth, pulling out slow as she kept her eyes trained on her. 

“Finger me.” Misty’s breathing caught, glancing first at her wet fingers glistening in the light then to Cordelia’s gentle nod and then down between them as her fingers trailed immediately through wet folds, slipping inside easily. Cordelia sighed, her head falling back as Misty pumped slowly, curling up. When heat started to burn low in Cordelia’s core and she could feel herself soaking Misty’s fingers she moaned, low and gasping. “Oh, _stop_.” Misty pulled out, breathing hard. “Grab the lube,” she whispered, and Misty leaned back, grabbing the tube and popping open the cap. She dropped a small amount onto the dildo and rubbed it gently along the shaft. “More than that,” Cordelia said, watching her carefully. Misty glanced at her but did as she was told, her cheeks burning. “Are you okay?” 

“Just realized I dunno how to do this,” she mumbled, closing the lube and setting it aside. 

“I’ll guide you. Do you wanna stop?” Misty swallowed and shook her head. “Okay,” she whispered. “Come here.” Misty inched closer, looking down between them at the dildo. Cordelia kept her fingers spread across herself, waiting, and watched as Misty grabbed the shaft and slid it against Cordelia’s folds. She bit her lip, sliding her fingers along to the top of the dildo and pressing it down as Misty pressed in. “ _Fuck_ ,” Cordelia sighed, her head falling against a pillow. Misty moved steady, but quick, and Cordelia gasped. “ _Ah_ , hold on.” She pressed her palm to Misty’s belly button and held her still. 

“What’s wrong?” Misty asked, instantly worried. 

“Nothing, just...don’t move. Give me a second to adjust,” she sighed, letting herself relax around the strap on. “Have to go slow,” she choked, warmth already seeping into her abdomen. “Okay, keep going.” Misty moved slower this time, supporting herself on her hands, her hips dipping lower until they were pressed to Cordelia’s. “ _Oh_ , fuck,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering closed. 

“This okay?” 

“Yeah,” Cordelia whined, pulling Misty down on top of her. Slowly, Misty edged her hips back and slid down hard, making Cordelia gasp. She tried to find a rhythm, clumsy and jerking against her. After a few minutes of stumbling and Cordelia’s patient encouragement, Misty realized she had to use her knees as leverage, that she couldn’t just move her whole body, she had to roll her hips back. But she was still thrusting hard, and Cordelia groaned, her fingers tightening on Misty’s arms. “Baby, _softer_ , softer,” she gasped, breathless, and Misty paused, her own breathing erratic. 

“I just wanna make you feel good.” 

“I know,” Cordelia conceded, raising her hand to stroke across Misty’s flushed cheek. “Are you still okay?” 

“Just frustrated,” Misty grumbled, her arms starting to shake from holding herself up.

“I could be on top,” she suggested, and Misty’s eyes shot to hers, darkening. Cordelia smiled at the sight, leaning up to kiss her. Then she tapped Misty’s bicep twice, and she pulled out slowly, Cordelia muffling a whine with her lips pressed together. Gently, they switched places, Misty flopping down on the bed, hair splayed around her, dildo swaying on her hips. Cordelia grabbed the lube and straddled Misty just above it, already breathing heavily in anticipation. Misty seemed mesmerized as Cordelia spread lube across the strap on, her fingers delicate but commanding. Wind chimes sounded outside the shack, and the light filtered yellow across them, fading and coming back as clouds passed overhead. Then Cordelia took the lube that was on her fingers and slid it between her legs, across her clit and through wet folds. “Fuck,” she sighed, her head tilting back. Misty watched her with wide eyes, her hands trailing up Cordelia’s thighs. She looked down at Misty, pupils blown wide, and bit hard on her lip. Misty understood the question and nodded, squeezing soft flesh. Cordelia inched back, holding the strap on and gently guiding the tip of it inside her. “ _Oh_ ,” she gasped, gently, slowly inching herself down. A soft moan tumbled from her as she finally stilled, sitting on Misty’s hips, the full length of the dildo inside her. She shivered, breathing quick as she closed her eyes. “Oh god,” she groaned, and Misty reached up to trail hands across flushed skin. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Misty breathed, and Cordelia whined, leaning forward, her hands on either side of Misty’s head. Then she lifted her hips and sank back down. She started up a slow rhythm, her hips rocking on top of Misty’s until eventually she was panting and whimpering, her movements jerky and quick as she slid back and forth. Then she gasped, hard and sharp, and stilled suddenly. “Delia, what?” Misty asked, alarmed. 

“Oh, Jesus, fuck,” she sighed, a hand snaking down between her legs and pulling the wet dildo up, sliding it back inside her. “Came out,” she whined, sinking back down on it with a groan. Misty felt heat shoot through her. Cordelia’s face was flushed red, sweat shining on her forehead. She started up fast again, and Misty, wide eyed, pressed her hands into Cordelia’s hips, stilling her. 

“ _Slow_ ,” she breathed, and Cordelia whined, so desperate but willing to do anything Misty asked of her, her thighs twitching around Misty’s hips. She sat up and leaned back, palms pressed into Misty’s thighs behind her. And she ground down hard, hips rocking as Misty watched the base of the dildo disappear through trimmed hair, wet heat pooling between her legs.

Suddenly cold without Cordelia’s flushed skin against her, Misty sat up and pulled her close, an arm tight around her back, the other holding her up on the bed. She moaned, clutching desperately onto Misty, teeth digging into her shoulder as she rocked against her. Cordelia moaned her name, high and gasping as her hips stuttered. She was breathing heavily, a hand rising to tangle in Misty’s hair, tugging. At the quiet moan it pulled from Misty’s lips, Cordelia groaned, moving to kiss her, wet and open mouthed. 

“Fuck, _Misty_ , I’m close,” she moaned as Misty leaned down to kiss her neck. Even that was too much because something loud and desperate forced its way up her throat as she buried her face in Misty’s skin. Though when she came it was quiet and shaky, her hips jerking haphazardly against Misty who could feel Cordelia’s wetness on the tops of her own thighs and low on her belly. Cordelia was soaking wet, her skin flushed and sweaty against her, hips twitching down, thighs squeezing Misty’s hips as she held her impossibly tight. “ _Oh_ , Misty. _Misty_ ,” she whined, her mouth pressed to her shoulder. Breathing heavily with her, Misty twitched her hips against Cordelia and was surprised to hear her moan long and low. “ _Fuck_ , honey. Sensitive. Second. Give me a second,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. Misty smiled, kissing her hair and trailing her nails across her back. It made Cordelia shiver. 

“You’re incredible, sunshine,” Misty mumbled into her ear, kissing it. “Think you can go again?” 

Cordelia laughed weakly, pulling back to press her forehead to Misty’s. “You’re funny.” Then she kissed her, sweet and gentle, and pressed her hands to Misty’s shoulders for leverage as she slid up and off the dildo, groaning as she laid down on the bed next to her. Misty laid back with her, the wet dildo glinting in the afternoon sun. “How are you feeling?” Cordelia asked, still trying to catch her breath as she turned to glance at Misty. 

“Not sure,” she admitted, her hands shaking lightly. 

“ _Bad_ not sure?” Cordelia asked, concerned. 

“No, just...overwhelmed, I think,” she murmured, and Cordelia inched closer, resting her cheek on Misty’s shoulder. 

“Take off the strap on so I can hold you,” Cordelia said, and though her voice was soft there was no room for discussion. Not that Misty was arguing. “If I could feel my legs, I’d do it for you, but I think I’m just gonna lay here for a minute,” she gasped, and Misty laughed, struggling and eventually tearing it off, eager to be in Cordelia’s arms. She curled into her, and Cordelia pressed dozens of kisses to every inch of her face, making Misty laugh harder and hold her tighter. “You are so gorgeous,” Cordelia told her, brushing her hair away from her face and kissing her forehead. “You looked _so_ fucking _sexy_ in that harness, Misty,” she whispered into her skin, and Misty felt a shiver run down her spine. 

“You looked just as good riding it,” she said into her neck, and Cordelia took a breath, squeezing her tighter. The words sent a wave of arousal through her, and she had to close her eyes to force it down. She was much too sensitive to even think about going again. 

After laying there tangled together for what felt like hours, they reluctantly pulled away and cleaned themselves and the dildo up. Soon Cordelia found herself outside on the porch, sitting on the front step watching the clouds roll in. They were closer now, and the sky was starting to darken. Cordelia’s legs were still shaking, faintly, and the air had twinged colder, the wind rustling through the trees a little harsher. She heard the door open and close behind her, and then Misty was sitting next to her, a bottle of beer in each hand. She’d pulled on a pair of faded jeans, wearing nothing else but a bra, her hair tangled on her shoulders. Cordelia had thrown on a pair of underwear and one of Misty’s baggy tee shirts, but her legs were bare, toes sliding through the grass. She accepted the beer Misty offered and took a long drink. It was cold, and her nose was chilled, but it felt good. Everything felt comfortable and fresh, and Misty was there next to her, warm and solid. 

“Startin’ to smell like rain,” she offered, squinting against the wind. Cordelia hummed, looking out onto the swamp. The sound of birds had faded twenty minutes ago. Faintly, the low rumbling of thunder rolled through the air, and Cordelia glanced at Misty who was grinning from ear to ear. “Here we go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost half this chapter is pure smut, and it’s only Friday for these two dummies, so just prepare yourself. Originally this story was supposed to be mostly smut with some feelings mixed in, and I’m hoping to finally fulfill that promise in the last few chapters.


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